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THE 

FLOWER OF GALA WATER. 





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* ^ 0 f % { $ 

THE FLOWER OF 
GALA WATER. 


a None!. 


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" F' 

MRS. AMELIA E.^ BARR, 

Author of “Girls of a Feather “The Beads of 
Tasmer." “Friend Olivia ” etc. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY C. KENDRICK. 


~z 


NEW YOKK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

PUBLISHERS. 


THE OHOICE •Emit : ISSUED monthly, subscription price, six dollars PER ANNUM. NO. IIS. 

JANUARY 1, 1SSS. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER. 


> 


TZ 3 



Copyright, 1893, 

BY GODEY PUBLISHING CO. 

COPYRIGHT, 1894, 

BY HUBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


(AU rig fits reserved.) 





The Flower of Gala Water. 

» 

CHAPTER I. 

THE FLOWER OF GALA WATER. 

“ Wan water from the Border hills 
Dear voice from the old years, 

Thy distant music lulls and stills, 

And moves to quiet tears. 

l< A mist of memory broods and floats; 

The Border Waters flow; 

The air is full of ballad notes, 

Born out of long ago.” 

44 T HAVE a friend. Her name is Katherine 
Janfarie.” 

In these words Jessy Telfair usually an- 
swered any remark about the solitude of her 

1 7 J 


8 


The Flower of Gala Water . 

home. It was only an apparent solitude, for 
Jessy knew the laird’s fine house was just over 
the nearest hill, and that there the sweetest 
maid of Tweedside dwelt — her friend, Katherine 
Janfarie. , 

She was talking this morning to a stranger 
who was waiting to see her father. But many 
strangers called upon the minister of Kirtle- 
hope, for he was a famous angler, and the lonely 
manse among the hills by Gala Water was well 
known to the brothers of the rod and reel. 
Such visitors, however, had usually been of 
middle age, dressed for their intentions in rough- 
gray tweed and well-greased boots, with a long, 
light waterproof and creel slung across their 
shoulders. But this caller was fashionably clad 
in the nattiest of travelling suits ; moreover, he 
was young, and had the air of a high-bred and 
thoroughly assured gentleman. 

Standing by the window of the manse parlor, 
he looked up the winding valley that led to the 
sources of the river in the heart of the hills. 


The Flower of Gala Water . 9 

The slopes were covered with sheep and lambs 
— hundreds of hidden hollows were full of 
them — and their bleating and the murmur of 
Gala Water, hurrying down through archipel- 
agoes of bowlders and flashing over tiny water- 
falls, were all the sounds that broke the still- 
ness of the lonely place. So he turned to Jessy 
then, and made some remark about the solitude, 
and she answered him : 

“ I have a friend. Her name is Katherine 
Janfarie.” 

There was a childlike abruptness and confi- 
dence, a sense of sufficiency in this assertion, 
which was very attractive. It was evident also 
that she wished to be entertaining, and that she 
could think of no subject more delightful than 
her friend. Yet far as the eyes could see in 
every direction, the hills and valleys were set to 
song and story. Names that lilt through the 
noblest ballads in the world — that sanctify the 
most desperate struggles for religious liberty — 
that are foremost in the chronicles of valor and 


IO 


The Flower of Gala Waler. 


science are its familiar names. But Jessy 
thought of none of them ; she said only, when the 
stranger spoke of the loneliness of the famous 
land : “ I have a friend. Her name is Kath- 

erine Janfarie.” 

Then he looked into the pleasant face of the 
speaker. He had been expecting to hear of the 
Douglas and Buccleugh — of the Elliots and 
Armstrongs — “ Crackspear ” and “ Out-with-the- 
Sword or, at least, of the Covenanters and 
Erskine and Chalmers, preaching on the heath- 
ery heights to vast, unbonneted, reverent con- 
gregations ; but Miss Telfair did not mention 
any of these heroes. Her heart was with her 
friend, and she smiled as her lips made the 
music of her name. Perhaps if she had consid- 
ered the matter she could not have been more 
entertaining, for the young man waiting for the 
minister knew all about the romance of the past ; 
it was the romance of the present he desired ; 
and “ Katherine Janfarie ” fell upon liis ears 
like the preluding of music. 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


n 


“ Is your friend pretty enough to deserve her 
pretty name ?” he asked. 

“ Pretty ? Katherine is beautiful ! Katherine 
is the ‘ Flower of Gala Water !’ On all Tweed- 

i 

side there is none like her/' 

“ Then I hope she lives near to you.” 

“ She lives just over the hill. I can sit here 
and watch her come into sight. If .she does not 
see me, when she gets to the little burn by the 
garden gate she begins to sing, and then I run 
to meet her.” 

“ Some one is coming over the hill now — but 
it is not Miss Janfarie.” 

Jessy looked up and smiled. 

“ That is the minister ; Rab Hays is with him. 
Rab is one of the duke’s men, and is worth the 
knowing. Rab went ‘ out ’ with the Free- 
kirkers, and when father asked him ‘ what the 
duke would say to that,’ he answered : ‘ Indeed, 
minister, I dinna ken ; but I must think o’ the 
Day o’ Judgment. The duke willna answer for 
me on that day.' If Rab sees the minister going 


12 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


to the hills, he is sure to ‘ daunder up the water ' 
to meet him. Now I must go and welcome 
father home. He would think it strange if 1 
did not.” 

The minister entered the front door as Jessy 
stepped into the hall. He called to her cheer- 
fully, and patting his creel, said : 

“ The burns are a perfect Piccadilly with an- 
glers, Jessy, but I have gotten a few fine fel- 
lows.” 

Then Jessy peeped into his creel, and an- 
swered : 

“ There are a dozen fine fellows, at least, 
father.” 

“ Maybe so ; but oh, lassie, for the days when 
a man could fish down stream, and yet fill his 
creel and his cap and his pouches with speckled 
trout !” 

“ There is a gentleman in the parlor. He is 
waiting to see you. Here is the card with his 
name printed on it. I never heard of the man 
before/' - 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


13 


The minister wanted his dinner, and he did 
not want to see strangers at that hour. He took 
the card reluctantly, read and then reread it. 

“ There is a kind of familiarity,” he muttered. 
“ Richard Mowbray, Mowbray Hall, Westmore- 
land.” His brows went together. Then his 
face brightened. “ To be sure, Jessy,” he said, 
“ Mowbray ! I know the man ! We were at 
Edinburgh College together.” 

“ This Mr. Mowbray is not very much older 
than I am.” 

“ Then it is Reginald Mowbray’s son. Dear 
me ! How the days go by ! Look to the dinner, 
Jessy ; the young man will eat it with us. I will 
give you half an hour, my dear.” 

Jessy was glad of the interval. She carried 
the trout to the kitchen to be broiled, and then 
ran to her room to change the gray winsey she 
wore for something pretty in silk and plush. 
She made her black hair a trifle more fluffy and 
pinned her gold brooch in her lace at her throat. 
And with her brighter garments she put on a 


14 The Flower of Gala Water . 


brighter spirit, a more hospitable manner and 
intent. Yet through all her toilet she was think- 
ing of Katherine — wishing she would come — 
wondering what Mr. Mowbray would think of 
her — speculating as to what Katherine would 
think of him — inventing a little romance in 
which a certain Jamie Wintoun interfered con- 
siderably — and feeling, to a large extent, all the 
excitement of her imaginations. 

Then she hastened downstairs and found the 
dinner on the table, and her father and Mr. 
Mowbray just entering the dining-room. They 
were talking politics, and the elder man was 
quite excited. 

“ You are just a deaf and blind Tory, Mr. 
Mowbray,” he said, “ and your father was one 
before you. You cannot discern the signs of 
the times any better than the Tories of two 
thousand years ago could. Go to Galashiels and 
bide among the weavers a wee. They will give 
you something to think about.” 

“ It is matter enough for thought, sir, to see 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


15 


the men who ‘ marched * the Border for cen- 
turies take to a loom and shuttle. But I cannot 
understand how it was possible to make Radi- 
cals and Socialists out of them.” 

“ Man, they were aye that and nothing else. 
Generations ago their forefathers anticipated 
the pleasant theories of Mr. George and Mr. 
Hyndman, and ‘ had a persuasion that all prop- 
erty was common by law of nature, and was 
therefore liable to be appropriated by them.’ 
In fact, the Border men have always favored the 
good old plan that — 

“ * They should take who have the power, 

And they should keep who can.’ ” 

And the minister, smiling, helped himself to 
another goodly portion of broiled trout. The 
sentiment called for an example, and he 
gave it. 

So the wordy warfare went on throughout 
dinner until the quiet, dreamful old manse had 
the aura of a town-hall at election-time. All the 
political and social struggles of the day and hour 


1 6 The Flower of Gala Water. 

filled the little room, and Jessy heard, as afar 
off, such stimulating, irritating names as Glad- 
stone, Salisbury, Parnell, Labouchere, until this 
restless atmosphere of the present was suddenly 
invaded by a voice from the restless atmosphere 
of the past — a clear, sweet voice singing an old 
Border lilt : 

“For a’ that, and a’ that, 

And twice as much as a’ that, 

We ’ll harry the cattle and malt and grain, 

And over the Border hame again !” 

At the first line there was a sudden silence, 
and a smile flashed over the minister’s disputa- 
tious face. Jessy looked at him, and she, too, 
was smiling. Mowbray glanced from father to 
daughter, interested and curious, and the merry 
voice came nearer and nearer. In a few mo- 
ments the door of the room opened, and Kath- 
erine Janfarie stood in its place, like a picture 
in a frame. The song was yet upon her lips and 
the music of it on her face. 

Mowbray felt his heart leap, and he rose to 
his feet. It was an unconscious and involun- 


JESSY WAS WAITING AT THE DOOR OF THE HOT-HOUSE .— See Page 36. 






































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*7 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


tary homage, for the girl was marvelously beau- 
tiful, an exquisite little creature, with a face 
fresh and radiant as a new-blown flower, eyes 
like two stars, and lips that were made to kiss. 
Some fine instinct had taught her to robe her- 
self this spring day in the very colors of the 
spring. A darkish-green dress of softish cash- 
mere fell straight to her feet, but the plaited 
vest was of pale-primrose silk. She had in her 
hands a little basket of rushes, filled with fresh 
primroses, and she looked like an angel of the 
flowers. 

But the loveliness words describe so tediously 
was an instant revelation to eyes and hearts, 
and Katherine had not crossed the room ere 
Richard Mowbray was conscious of some new 
element in his existence. Through all his being 
the full tide of love swept like a fateful fire with 
irresistible surge and flow, and he was carried 
off his feet — far beyond his reason — by its un- 
foreseen impetuosity. Even when the minister 
spoke her name to him, and he was conscious 


i8 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


that she was at his side and looking into his 
face, he was not able to collect or control his 
outward manhood. The fire she had kindled in 
his heart radiated from his eyes, and she dropped 
her eyes beneath their gaze, and was vaguely 
troubled and yet pleased by the mysterious 
shock they gave her. 

A moment or two of embarrassment followed 
the meeting, but the minister quickly relieved 
it with a very commonplace remark. 

“ I thought you had a new pony, Katherine/’ 
he said, “ and I w r as sure you would be just dis- 
tracted to ride him over here.” 

“ I had also a new hat, sir, and the hat carried 
the day.” 

Then she took it from her head and turned it 
about on her hands, and smiled at Jessy, and 
was quite unconscious that the revelation of her 
fair, bright hair waving and curling around her 
brow was a fresh enchantment. 

“ You see, it is a sailor hat,” she said, “ and 
one could not be so impossibly absurd as to wear 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


*9 


a sailor hat on horseback. I wanted to wear the 
sailor hat ; so I walked/' 

“Well, my dear, we will all walk back with 
you. I want to see the laird, and I know well 
the laird wants to see me. So, my bonnie lassie, 
go away for half an hour and talk your hats well 
over — straw and ribbons and a' — and let Mr. 
Mowbray and me get through our argument. 
He has the last word now, and that, you know, 
is far wrong.” 

“ The last word belongs to women, does it not, 
father ?” 

“ To women by courtesy, Jessy ; to ministers 
by right. Now, Mr. Mowbray, you were say- 
ing—” 

The parlor door closed the argument as far as 
Jessy and Katherine were concerned. They 
went slowly up the stairs hand in hand, not 
speaking until they were in Jessy’s room. Then 
Katherine said : 

“Who is your guest, Jessy Telfair? And 
where did he come from ?” 


20 


The Flower of Gala tValer . 


“ His father was at Edinburgh University with 
my father. They were friends — or enemies. I 
am not sure which. The elder Mowbray died 
last Christmas and left father a token. The 
young man brought it to him/’ 

“ A token of what, Jessy?” 

“ It might be a love-token. Father put it in 
his vest pocket and never said a word.” 

“ Only think of Minister Telfair having a 
romance ! Such a nice, comfortable, middle- 
aged gentleman with a love-token in his vest 
pocket !” 

“ I did not say that it was certainly a love- 
token, Katherine.” 

“ But let us think it was. I have an idea there 
is a great deal of hidden romance in life. And 
please, Jessy, where does ‘ the young man ’ come 
from ?” 

“ Over the Border — somewhere in Westmore- 
land.” 

Jessy was trying on the new hat, tilting it this 
way and that, and she was not as interested in 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


21 


the question as Katherine thought she might 
have been. 

“ Never mind the hat, Jessy. You can get 
another just like it in Galashiels to-morrow. 
But ‘ the young man ’ could not be matched at 
all, I should say — unless we went over the Bor- 
der somewhere in Westmoreland, to find his 
marrow.” 

“ Do you think him so handsome ?” 

“ Do you not think him so handsome ?” 

“ He is not to be compared with Jamie Win- 
toun.” 

“ Perhaps not, if the comparison be made by 
inches. But then Mr. Mowbray is all alive. 
His hand was hot ; its clasp went straight to my 
heart ; his very finger-tips tingled. I know, for 
I touched them. Jamie Wintoun is made of 
clay — you never doubt it.” 

“ Mr. Mowbray is also made of clay/ 

“ Informed with spirit.” 

“ Jamie has some spirit. He is a bit of a lag- 
gard, truly, but, generally speaking, he does 


22 The Flower of Gala Water . 

what he wants to do. Mr. Mowbray is only a 
bird of passage ; he is here to-day and to-morrow 
he will be gone.” 

Katherine did not contradict this prophecy. 
She walked to the window and looked out over 
the green desert and up to the gray firmament 
above it. 

“ It will rain at sunset, Jessy,” she said. “ Let 
us hasten the minister’s argument. This bird 
of passage will want somewhere to sleep. Are 
you going to ask him to stop at the manse ?” 

“ Father has said nothing to me. I will speak 
to him as we walk over the hill.” 

Perhaps it was the supposed need for obtain- 
ing this information which led Jessy to range 
herself at her father’s side and, with a smiling 
movement, indicate to Mr. Mowbray that his 
duty was to be Katherine’s escort. It seemed, 
however, the most natural of positions ; neither 
of them felt a moment’s surprise at their sudden 
companionship. They sauntered through the 
garden, which was full of early flowers, and 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


23 


Katherine pointed out the sweet freedom and 
democratic friendships that were permitted 
there. 

“ Pansies are everywhere you see,” she said, 
“and the rose-trees' have no upper beds to grow 
in, and the lilies are not too saintly to mingle 
with the gadabout honeysuckle- vine and the 
very worldly poppies.” 

“ Yet the place is pretty now, and it will doubt- 
less grow more lovely with the summer. My 
gardener has but one idea, and that is to make 
geometrical shapes and fill them with colored 
leaves or blossoms.” 

“ Ah, the poor little flowers ! Set out so 
primly, they must feel as if they were at school, 
and not enjoy themselves at all. If I was a 
flower, I would rather be a bluebell and grow 
out on the mountain-side just where I pleased. 
But we have a fine garden at Levens-hope, and 
the house is old enough to have stories about its 
rooms and queer dreams in all its chairs. There 
is even a ghost in the long corridor — not one of 


24 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


the modern scientific ghosts, full of psychologi- 
cal suggestions — but a plain, simple, straight- 
forward ghost/’ 

“ Have you ever seen it ?” 

“ Very often in the twilight. There is noth- 
ing that fears me in the harmless, melancholy 
wraith.” 

“Some unhappy lady of former days, I sup- 
pose ?” 

“ Ah, no ! A brave young laird of Levens- 
hope, who followed Prince Charlie. Do you see 
yonder narrow road winding across the moun- 
tain-breast southward ? The Highland host 
took it, and young Walter Brathous was with 
them. He was only twenty years old then, and 
he never came home again — in the flesh. His 
picture is in the corridor, a gay, handsome- 
looking boy, with the unlucky white rose of 
Stuart over his heart. All the Janfaries, too, 
have been men of the sword. My own father 
died at the head of his company in the onset of 
battle.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


25 


There did not seem to be any answer proper 
to this statement, and Mowbray did not attempt 
a platitude ; yet he made Katherine feel that he 
was interested and sympathetic. Indeed, his 
whole nature was in a condition of happy tur- 
moil, and he could not command the words he 
wished. It was as if a door of his soul, hitherto 
closed, had been suddenly opened by Kath- 
erine’s hands, and he was confused and amazed 
and under a kind of enchantment. The green 
hills on which he walked with her were not 
earthly hills ; the air he breathed with her had 
in it some diviner element. Her low voice, her 
sweet, rippling laugh, the sway of her garments 
against him, the miraculous light in her eyes, 
threw him into a delightsome trance, in which 
he saw the vision of Love, like unto Katherine ; 
and all his soul and all his senses were subju- 
gated by the sudden splendor of the revelation. 

And Katherine knew that this luminous, still 
serenity had nothing whatever to do with insen- 
sibility. She understood intuitively that it was 


26 The Flower of Gala Water. 

the natural expression of feeling that had not 
yet learned how to speak. She herself was con- 
scious of some emotion new and strange. She 
talked about a score of idle things, because her 
instinct told her that silence would be indis- 
creet. She was a little fearful, and she knew 
not of what she was afraid. Her lips voiced 
pleasantly all the proprieties that guard every- 
day life ; but below her lips her heart was ask- 
ing with a persistent iteration questions which 
as yet she answered only with a peremptory 
“ Hush !” 

The minister and Jessy walked a few yards 
behind them. They were talking of the enter- 
tainment to be given to the stranger. 

“ He is welcome a day or two at the manse,” 
said Doctor Telfair, but without much cordiality. 
“ You know, Jessy, there are always my ser- 
mons to write, and the thought of a visitor is 
the thought of the burns and the fish in them ; 
and you ’ll allow, my dear, that there is not 
much spirituality between trout and sermons." 


The Floiuer of Gala Water. 27 

“ His father was your friend.” 

“ Until a woman parted us. That is long ago, 
and I hope I have Christianity enough not to 
visit on the lad the ill-will I once had toward 
his father. Ask him to stay a week or two 
weeks, if you like his company.” 

“ You seemed to enjoy talking with him, 
father.” 

“ Not much. He has no political sense, and 
he is an Episcopal in religion, and fishing he 
has no right kind of respect for. His company 
is neither ‘ here nor there ’ for menfolk, and for 
young girls he might be dangerous.” 

“ Why should he be dangerous ?” 

“ He has ‘ a way ’ with him, and I could see 
that he was fairly bewildered with Katherine’s 
beauty. I ’m thinking the laird may ask him to 
stay a few days, for Brathous knew his father 
well enough. They were in the same classes, 
and the young English squire was a well-kent 
figure. Brathous was proud in those bygone 
days to have a bow or a word from him. The 


28 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


young man favors his father, though he is not 
handsome.’’ 

“ Katherine appears to be pleased with him.” 

“ Katherine should keep mind of her mani- 
fest destiny. She would be a foolish girl to 
bring complications into it. I see Brathous is 
coming to meet us ; so I will just step forward 
with Mowbray and introduce him.” 

He did so, and, with the young man at his 
side, walked briskly toward the advancing laird, 
while Katherine waited until Jessy joined her. 
They both watched the meeting with interest, 
for both knew the uncertain disposition of the 
laird of Levens-hope. Fortunately, Brathous 
was in a very good humor. He had just re- 
ceived an American reaper and some fine Jersey 
cattle, and he was ready to welcome any one 
who was ready to admire them. But, apart 
from this favorable condition, he was pleased 
with his visitor ; pleased with the memories he 
called forth, and pleased with his gentlemanly 
appearance and quick appreciation of the scien- 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


29 


tific farming which was the special pride of the 
laird of Levens-hope. 

Katherine and Jessy watched the three men 
turn toward the barns and the farm-buildings, 
and they understood what would be sure to 
follow. 

“ For an hour at least their talk will be of 
bullocks,” said Katherine, with an air of disap- 
pointment. “ Let us go into the house and sit 
with my mother. And yet what a perfect after- 
noon it is for a walk !” 

They were at the wide entrance gate, and at 
Katherine’s tone of regret both turned and 
looked back over the mountain-path they had 
just trod. It was flushed with the most delicate 
tints of green. There were tufts of primroses 
where the meadow was the dampest, and the air 
was full of fragrance from the yellow blossoms 
of the broom. The wan cold water flashed and 
rippled with translucent tints in the bursts of 
sunshine. The ousels were flitting from stone 
to stone, the linnets lilting in every bush ; and 


30 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


all over the grassy parapets by the gates there 
was a mist of bluebells nodding in the soft wind 
a welcome to spring. The loveliness, freshness 
and the sweetness of the scene went forever 
into Katherine’s memory, blending itself magic- 
ally with the face and voice of the stranger who 
had walked by her side. 

Slowly the girls went through the garden 
together, stopping to admire the white pow- 
dered auriculas and the budding lilacs, and lin- 
gering long by the pond, that was shadowed by 
the large white thorn, for it was just breaking 
into a wonder of snowy blossom. The house of 
Levens-hope stood in the midst of the garden. 
It was built of rough, weather-beaten stones, 
touched here and there with moss, and it was 
old enough and lonesome enough to be the hab- 
itation of all the ghosts and dreams Katherine’s 
fancy gave it. But the interior had an air of 
heavy, old-fashioned comfort, brightened with 
many modern elegancies, making it altogether 
satisfying and even picturesque. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


3i 


The girls went leisurely to a parlor on the 
second floor, a long, low room with many win- 
dows and a bright fire on the hearth. Here 
they found Mrs. Brathous. She was sitting in 
a comfortable wicker chair, with a basket of 
tangled silks and worsteds on her lap. As the 
girls entered she smiled and pointed to 
them. 

“ I wish I had been born a good, methodical 
creature/’ she said, with a long sigh, “ for I 
would need to be a very saint to unravel this 
weary tangle and keep my temper the while.” 

“ Have you finished your screen at last, Mrs. 
Brathous ?” asked Jessy. 

“ I have, my dear. Some day also I will finish 
my cooking book. You say ‘ at last ’ very wisely, 
Jessy, for little duties must give way to great 
ones, and the writing of a book or the working 
of a screen are things that can keep, but waste- 
ful servants require to be watched and guided 
every hour of the day. Did you meet the laird 
as you came through the garden ?” 


32 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ He is gone with the minister and an Eng- 
lishman to see the Jersey cows.” 

“ An English gentleman ?” 

“ Yes ; the son of an old college acquaintance.” 

“ Then I must set by my worsteds and look to* 
the cake-basket and the pantry -shelves.” 

She rose with the words and began to put 
away her sewing materials. Katherine looked 
lovingly after her mother, who was an exceed- 
ingly pretty woman, small and plump, and very 
becomingly dressed in a plum-colored silk gown 
and a little white-lace cap tipping the abundant 
coils of her dark-brown hair. 

“You might put on a lighter frock, Kath- 
erine,” ,ishe said. “ Jamie Wintoun will be sure, 
someway or somehow, to find himself here, and 
then there will be four pairs of feet for a reel or 
two.” 

But though Katherine went to her room osten- 
sibly for this purpose, she did not fulfill it. 

“ You could not look lovelier, Katherine,” said 
Jessy. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


33 


And Katherine touched the cashmere softly, 
and remembered that she had put it on that 
afternoon fresh and new. And dresses have 
their destinies. In this one she had spent the 
most wonderful hour of her life, and she would 
not alter a ribbon or add a brooch. Neither 
would she reason with herself as to the “ why ” 
of this resolve. The dress had had a happy be- 
ginning. To make question about it might 
spoil all. 

“ It just suits you, Katherine,” continued 
Jessy. “ It ‘ jumps to the eyes,’ as your gowns 
usually do. So different to Clara Heriot’s, which 
always have a second-hand look. Let us go into 
the garden. We can saunter about in the sun- 
shine until the laird and the others come to us.” 

So Katherine replaced the sailor hat, and 
threw around her shoulders a little red cloak, and 
as they went out together, Jessy said : 

“ There must be poets around taking notes, 
for it was but yesterday I read a verse that was 
surely inspired by you, Katherine — 


34 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ 4 First, a small cloak of faded red; 

Then a soft dress of laurel green ; 

Then a beloved brown-rippled head, 

With fair, sweet face the curls between.’ 

I wonder if I made it up myself ; for I tell you, 
Katherine, you turn every one either into a poet 
or a lover.” 

Then Katherine would have kissed her friend, 
but the laird suddenly came round a private 
hedge, and the minister called to his daughter, 
and Mowbray stepped to the side of Katherine. 
Thus they went through the garden together, 
talking of many things, smiling, laughing, 
touching hands as they swayed downward the 
branches of the budding trees, almost touching 
cheeks as they bent their faces among the hot- 
house flowers, full of intoxicating scents and 
dreams of love-laden blossoms. 

Here they lingered a little behind the party, 
and Mowbray, looking suddenly into Katherine’s 
face, asked in a low voice : 

“ How long have I known you, Miss Jan- 
farie ?” 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


35 


“ I cannot remember. It seems a long time 
ago. I must have dreamed about you when I 
was a child. Do you remember ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What do you remember ?” 

“ That your name is— Katherine — Kath- 
erine !” 

She paled divinely and drew a little away. 
But his eyes were upon her — eyes full of pier- 
cing light, yet languishing and lengthening like 
the eyes of love. Virgin passion burns to white- 
ness, and the brightening pallor of Katherine’s 
cheeks was that “ complete steel of saintly chas- 
tity ” that “angels lacky.” Mowbray bowed 
before it. She passed onward, and he felt that 
an atmosphere had fallen between them that 
he could not, even by thought, invade. Yet he 
was strangely happy. He had been permitted 
to take this great step forward and he had not 
been sent back. That was much. And Kath- 
erine Janfarie could never now forget him. As 
for himself, he knew that Katherine was his 


36 The Flower of Gala Water. 


lost Pleiade found again ; the star of all his 
future life. 

A few steps brought them out of the warm 
perfumed air into the cool freshness of the 
mountain breeze. Jessy was waiting at the door 
of the hot-house. 

“ I dare not enter it,” she said, “ the heat and 
scent always give me a headache. I am not 
from the tropics, that is evident.” 

She was astonished to find Katherine and 
Mowbray so quiet. She wondered if “ anything 
had been said.” Being herself yet of the unin- 
itiated, she did not understand that silence is 
the first speech of hearts invaded by the melan- 
choly and mystery of love. 

The mirth of the evening was a discord. The 
laird was in that riotously happy mood which 
was the next disagreeable thing to his unreason- 
ably ill-tempered mood. He made jokes with 
the minister and snubbed Katherine and scolded 
his servants, and imagined himself to be very 
imposing, because every one remembered he 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


37 


was their host and tolerated him. During the 
evening Jamie Wintoun, as Mrs. Brathous had 
predicted, “ found himself present;” and then 
she carried out the rest of her plan and played 
some merry reels, which Katherine taught Mow- 
bray how to dance. It was a charming lesson, for 
Wintoun was one of those fair, tall, long-necked 
youths who are always glad to be accommo- 
dating and happy to make others happy. 

Also he had more influence over his uncle 
than any other mortal, and he succeeded in par- 
tially subduing the offensive prominence of that 
gentleman. For he had not, as yet, the least 
jealousy of Mowbray. He had known Kath- 
erine nearly all his life. He had no more fear 
of losing her than he had fear of his estate slip- 
ping away from him. When Katherine was 
twelve years old and he was eighteen they had 
been told they were destined to marry each 
other at the proper time ; Katherine had made 
no objection then and no active one since. 
Therefore Wintoun looked forward to his mar- 


38 The Flower of Gala Water . 


riage with the Flower of Gala Water very much 
as he had anticipated the coming of his major- 
ity. Both events were the ordained blessings 
of the heir of Wintoun-Lands and Lawers-Moss. 

About ten o’clock the minister said : 

“ There is light now of moon and stars, laird, 
and I will be moving home with my daughter 
and my guest.” 

Then the laird was specially effusive ; he 
wanted all to remain ; he wanted Mr. Mowbray 
to stay a few days, a few weeks if he liked. It 
was hard for Wintoun to make him see the im- 
propriety of asking the minister’s guest to re- 
move to his house. But Mowbray’s serenity 
threw an air of propriety over all mistakes and 
enabled him in his short adieu to give Kath- 
erine, at once, both the assurance and the hope 
he desired. The laird and Wintoun conveyed 
the party to the gates, and Katherine took the 
opportunity to slip away to her room. She 
stood in the dark and watched the three figures 
like three shadows disappear. Then Mrs. Brath- 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


39 


ous spoke to her, and Katherine turned and 
saw her mother at the open door. 

“ The laird bids you come downstairs, Kath- 
erine.’' 

“ I cannot come down to-night, mamma.” 

“ The laird will be angry.” 

“ He is neither king nor kaiser. Who cares?” 

“ Katherine !” 

“ Indeed, mamma, darling, I am in revolt. 
And if you would ‘ dare him ’ only once he 
would creep into a mouse-hole. I am not going 
to answer his summons this night, nor any 
night again, unless I wish to do so. I will fol- 
low the Janfarie motto, and ‘do my will and 
fear not.’ ” 

“ He will rage round and make every one 
miserable.” 

“ Jamie will not let him. Good-night, mam- 
ma !” and she took her mother’s cheeks between 
her hands and kissed her face many times, say- 
ing between the kisses : “You are such a dar- 
ling mamma — such a lovely mamma — I cannot 


40 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


tell how you ever stooped to pick up my dis- 
agreeable stepfather — young as I am, I could 
find a better and nicer man — I am sure I could. 
Good-night ! and good-night ! And, mamma, do 
make up your mind to ‘ do your will and fear 
not/” 

Then she turned the key and stood still to 
listen to her mother’s retreating footsteps. She 
feared the laird would come blustering to her 
door, and she stood ready to “do her will,” 
every nerve at high tension, her head lifted, her 
eyes gleaming, her lips parted — a little woman 
all on fire with sudden and just rebellion. 

' There was no challenge, however, and grad- 
ually the expression of her face softened into 
smiles and tender recollections. She slowly un- 
fastened her green and primrose gown, and let 
it fall to her feet. Then, with infinite neatness, 
she folded and laid it away in a wardrobe smell- 
ing of violets and lavender. This common act 
of daily life soothed and calmed her unusual 
feelings. She sat down in her snowy skirts, 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


4i 


lifted her small right foot, and began very 
slowly to unbutton her boots. At every little 
button she paused, for she was full to the lips of 
sweet thoughts and sweet hopes and dreams of 
happiness. 

“ He called me Katherine ! Katherine 1” she 
whispered. “ Indeed, I think he calls me now!” 
But it was only the strong vibration of her heart 
that struck upon her ear. 

She rose and she sat down. She rubbed her 
pink palms with pleasure ; she sighed ; she 
smiled ; and all alike for very joy. All that 
Mowbray had looked and spoken she recalled, 
and then musing she thought of what she would 
say when he returned. And she was troubled 
because with every change of words “some- 
thing ” seemed to be lost. 

Mowbray also was at this hour as little fit for 
human companionship. With many excuses he 
declined Doctor Telfair’s further hospitality at 
that time. He said “ the man who drove him 
to Kirtle-hope from Galashiels expected to re- 


42 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


turn that night, that his own valet was waiting 
in Edinburgh for him, and that he had urgent 
business in that city on the following day.” 

In reality he felt the same need for solitude 
as Katherine felt. He wished to rid himself of 
all necessity to consider any mortal but the be- 
loved one. He was glad when all necessity for 
courtesies was over, glad to obtain the solitude 
of his own dreams. 

“ God be thanked !” he said, as he recalled his 
visit, but especially those few rare minutes in 
the conservatory. 


“ ‘ God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures 
Boasts two soul-sides ; one to face the world with ; 

One to show a woman that he loves her.’ ” 

And his whole countenance brightened and 
flushed to the last line. “ Drive quicker, Wat 
Forster,” he said. “ Drive quicker. The wind 
begins to whistle. It is really ‘getting up.’ 
Let us hear the music of the horse’s hoofs.” 

And Watty sent them beating to an old bor- 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


43 


der gathering song in a voice that woke all the 
echoes far and near : 

“ ‘ Doughty Dan of the Houlet Hurst, 

Dan that was always good at a burst, 

Good with a bow, and better with a spear. 

Come thou here ! 

Fie, lads ! Shout ! 

A’ a’ a’ a’ 

My gear is a’ gane 

The rattling syllables seemed to be struck 
out by the iron of the horseshoes and the flint 
of the road, and they stirred Mowbray’s blood 
like a trumpet. But there was a far different 
melody in his heart, and beneath all the march- 
ing, the sense of shaking bridles and clashing 
spears, he was singing softly to himself this far 
more sweet prophecy of love : 

“ ‘By earth and heaven ! she shall be mine — 

The bonnie lass of Gala Water !’ ” 



CHAPTER II. 

BETWEEN THE PRIMROSE AND THE ROSE. 

Beauty formed 

Her face; her heart, Fidelity. — Q. 

We shape ourselves the joy or fear 
Of which the coming life is made. 

And fill our future’s atmosphere 

With sunshine or with shade. — Raphael. 

The first dawn of love is to any fine character 
a mystic polarization ; and no woman whose 
face has reflected for one instant the luminous, 
ardent gaze of such a lover as Richard Mow- 
bray could escape this result. Katherine, in- 
deed, was not one of those foolish souls who are 
forever questioning their own consciousness, yet 
she was aware of some distinct change — though 
f44] 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


45 


only as a butterfly might realize had it suddenly 
arrived at wings ; or a bud that it had become a 
rose. 

No one else perceived that Katherine had 
crossed that line “ where the brook and river 
meet.” The laird was going to a magisterial 
meeting, and was, therefore, in a judicial and 
authoritative temper ; and Mrs. Brathous was 
far too much occupied with his wants and orders 
to detect a difference in her daughter, which was 
rather to be felt than seen. The girl kissed her 
mother, bowed slightly to her stepfather, and 
silently took her place at the breakfast-table. 
She expected a reproof for her disobedience, 
but the laird said nothing until he was just 
ready to take the road. Then he called her to 
him. She answered the summons promptly. 
He was standing on the broad flag at the open 
door and Mrs. Brathous was at his side. 

“ Katherine,” he said, “ when I sent for you 
last night you refused to come. I shall look 
over the fault this time, but I warn you never 




46 The Flower of Gala Water . 


to attempt such rudeness in my house again. 
Good morning, my dear Helen. Tell Robert to 
go to Stowe for the new gardener. I shall he 
home this afternoon,” and he whipped the team 
into a gallop before Katherine had an opportu- 
nity to say a word. 

But she looked at her mother, and the look 
needed no interpretation. Mrs. Brathous an- 
swered it at once. 

“ He is very angry with you, Katherine ; and 
you must remember he is your guardian, and 
can send you back to school if he wishes. He 
was saying that this morning.” 

“ Why was I wanted so particularly last 
night ? Surely, I may go to sleep when I am 
sleepy. He has meddled with everything else.” 

“ He says you totally neglected Jamie — and 
that is true ; also, that you paid unnecessary at- 
tention to Mr. Mowbray.” 

“ Jamie is not interesting — he tries to be — but 
I am so tired of his efforts.” 

“ He is to be your husband, Katherine.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


47 


“ So my guardian says. But the will of Alex- 
ander Brathous is not Fate. I have a will 
also;’ 

“ You ! You can only obey the decision of 
those who have your affairs in their hands. 
Your own father wished you to marry Wintoun 
in order to bring back the land to the Janfaries. 
It is the will of your dead father, and it is not 
to be set aside for a fancy.” 

“ If my father were alive I am sure he would 
now will differently. The dead do not know 
how men and things change. When you were 
my age, mamma, would you have given up 
Captain Janfarie for the Wintoun lands ?” 

“ There is no Captain Janfarie in your case, 
Katherine, and therefore no question of ‘ give 
up,’ and your marriage with Jamie has been 
part of your education. Yes, indeed, I may say 
part of your very life.” 

“ Mamma, dear, -I warn you that about my 
marriage I shall follow the Janfarie rule and 
‘ do my will and fear not.’ ” 


48 The Flower of Gala Water. 


Mrs. Brathous did not answer. She knew 
that most people have to submit to the force of 
circumstances. She said to herself : 

“ The days and weeks will go by, and the 
wedding will be announced, and the invitations 
sent out, and the presents and dresses will 
arrive, and every congratulation will be a fresh 
rivet ; and at the last Katherine will take the 
good fortune provided for her and be thankful. 
For Jamie Wintoun is a kind, good lad, and she 
might go farther and fare worse.” 

So she went about her household duties and 
did not worry herself concerning Katherine’s 
“ will.” She heard her playing marches and 
mazurkas with a vehement rapidity, and she 
smiled a little and then sighed. She was think- 
ing how futile were the petulant rebellions of 
youth, and how soon the emotional girl would 
learn to accept calmly the inevitables of life, and 
make the best of them. But she did not leave 
her domestic duties to moralize, and at dinner 
there was a new soup and a new servant to dis- 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


49 


cuss, and the subject of matrimony seemed to 
be alien and very far off. 

After dinner Katherine put on her habit and 
rode over the hills to the manse. It had been a 
fine morning, but before noon the clouds heaped 
themselves in watery folds over the highest 
peaks, and everything was swathed in mist and 
vapor. Then came the rain as it only can come 
down among the mountains, and the wind drove 
the sheet of water on her back, but the air was 
so invigorating that she tingled all over with 
life and rode up to the manse door with her wet 
face all alight with smiles. 

Jessy was there to meet her, and then the 
damp clothing was changed and the parlor fire 
stirred to a blaze, and the girls kissed each other 
again and sat down before it. 

“ Father has gone to Galashiels,” said Jessy. 
“ He does not like to ride fast because it is not 
ministerial to gallop, but I think this wind and 
rain will whip his horse to his best trot.” 

“ The laird is out, too. I hope he will get 


50 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


wet through. Then he will stay in bed to-mor- 
row for fear of rheumatism.” 

“ Has he been scolding again ? If I were you 
I would get married. Jamie will never say a 
cross word to you.” 

“ When did your visitor leave, Jessy?” 

“ He went to Galashiels last night. He is in 
Edinburgh ere this, no doubt.” 

“ Have you seen the token, Jessy?” 

“ Father gave it to me. Look here !” 

“ A sapphire ring ! How lovely ! I wonder 
whom it was bought for.” 

“ A woman whom my father loved.” 

“ Was the minister troubled much ?” 

“ No. He said that his life had been long 
enough for the forgetting of sorrow. But he 
looked sadly at the ring. He told me he had 
bought it with many months of self-denial of 
all kinds, and that I might wear it for the sake 
of a good woman now with God. That was all.” 

“ What had Mr. Mowbray’s father to do with 


it?’ 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


5i 


“ He said nothing of him.” 

“ Do you think Mr. Mowbray will ever come 
back here ?” 

“ Why should he ?” 

“ People do come for the fishing and the 
scenery.” 

“ There are far more fashionable places. He 
did not seem anxious to prolong his visit. 
Father asked him to stay all night, but he would 
not.” 

“ Nevertheless, I am sure he will return. 
Have you ever seen a more interesting man ?” 

“ Many a time.” 

“ Now we have something to quarrel about.” 

“•Oh, no, Katherine ! Why should we quarrel 
about Mr. Mowbray? Besides, he will never 
come here again.” 

“ Never come here again ?” 

The words struck her on the heart. She 
turned sick and faint with the blow, but instead 
of crying out to Jessy, as she usually did when 
anything hurt her, she summoned all the 


52 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


strength of her own nature for help. In a few 
minutes she said : 

“ He may possibly find more fashionable 
places, but where will he find a country so inter- 
esting as Tweed side ? Our hills and dales and 
trout streams are not mere earth and water ; 
they have a kind of humanity — they have so 
many heroes and events linked with them that 
they are like story books. A good angler likes 
a living land to fish in.” 

“ A good angler thinks of nothing at all but 
fish. Father would catch trout in a canal ; and 
father said Mr. Mowbray had no proper respect 
for fishing. If Mr. Mowbray ever does, come 
back to Gala Water it will not be for fish of any 
kind ; he will come seeking the Flower of Gala 
Water ; and I for one do not want any English- 
man to carry her over the border. Are you 
going to read to me to-day, Katherine ?” 

Then Katherine lifted a book and Jessy took 
up the long, heavy fishing stocking she was 
knitting, and while her nimble fingers flew in 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


S3 


and out between the bright steel and the gray 
wool, Katherine read aloud the sweet poetic 
rhapsodies of “ Lalla Rookh.” The rain beat 
upon the windows, and the wind shrieked around 
the house, but these two maidens sat smiling in 
that 

“ Bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream,” 

listening with soft sighs and sympathy to the 
poet’s praise of love, and quite sure that they, 
too, could 

“ Love on through all ills, and love on till they died;” 
contented to believe that if there was 

“ An Elysium on earth, 

It was this, it was this !” 

About four o’clock the minister came back 
from Galashiels, and the scents of Araby the 
Blest and the love dreams behind Persian lat- 
tices vanished before his homely wants and 
complainings. 

« Reading ‘ Lalla Rookh !’ Roses and water ! 


54 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


Love and water ! Perfect nonsense !” he cried, 
with that touch of dialect he fell into when 
events troubled him. “ A cup of hot tea and a 
bite of mountain mutton will be more wiselike 
at this hour of the day, Jessy. What do you 
say, Mr. Bull ?” and he stooped and stroked the 
dog which had been his companion through the 
storm, and which was now stretched on the rug 
before the blazing fire. “We are both wet and 
hungry, Bull, and these girls are reading about 
Love and Roses. What do you think of such 
foolishness ?” 

Then Katherine burst into hearty laughter, 
as all must do who take the trouble to notice the 
irony in the lifted eyelids of a dog when it hears 
any person reproved. 

“ Look at the creature,” she said. “ If he 
could only talk, minister, what a lecture poets 
and young women who read poetry would get. 
But he is like you, sir, and prefers mutton.” 

“ Bull is not an exacting dog, but he does ex- 
pect his little personal comforts to be attended 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


55 


to. Have a drink of tea, dearie— and then gal- 
lop home as quick as you can. It is an east- 
windy, west-windy storm ; the east wind has 
about done its worst, and when the sun sets the 
west wind will show us what it can do.” 

“ As long as it is light I like the storm,” she 
answered. “ The rain is full of life, and the 
wind is full of life, and the spirit of the firma- 
ment thrills my spirit, and there is nothing bet- 
ter than a gallop through wind and rain, except 
it be a plunge into the summer sea.” 

“ But the laird will be home before you, and 
then he will fret himself and your mother, and 
hurry and worry the whole household.” 

“ The laird will go straight to his bed. He 
will call for blankets and herb teas, and watch 
for twinges of rheumatism, and send for mamma 
every ten minutes. Minister, what of your 
guest ?” 

“ He went away last night, Katherine. Here 
is your pony ; now finish your tea, and loiter no 
longer.” 


56 The Flower of Gala Water . 


Jessy was helping her with her boots and 
habit as he spoke, and as soon as the last button 
was in place Katherine drew her crimson Rob- 
Roy cap tight over her brows and went singing 
into the rain. They stood a few minutes at the 
open door and watched her headlong race 
through the swirling wreaths of vapor, her 
vivid-crimson cap the only point visible in the 
gray banks ; yet for those few moments they 
heard her voice as some higher note pierced the 
wet shroud in which she was enveloped. 

“ ‘ Will no one tell me what she sings ?’ ” 
quoted the minister, as he turned pleasantly to 
his fireside ; and Jessy took up the verse and 
finished it. 

“ Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow, 

From old unhappy far-off things, 

And battles long ago.” 

Jessy was partially right, but it was not Kath- 
erine’s nature to sing sad songs. Besides, the 
wind and the rain made her happy, and her 
heart refused to believe that Richard Mowbray 
had gone away forever. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


57 


“ People do not come into a life for nothing,” 
she argued, “ and it was into my life he was 
sent. The old ring and the old friendship were 
just the only introduction Fate could manage. 
And it is far more likely he came for my weal 
than for my woe. At any rate, I will believe 
this.” 

To such thoughts, mingled with the exhilar- 
ating storm, she reached Levens-hope in high 
spirits. Her habit was waterproof, and she 
flung it off with a laugh, and then removing her 
cap, she shook her hair free again. Her cheeks 
were rosy, and the raindrops lay like dew upon 
them. Her eyes sparkled, her mouth was 
curved with smiles, and she brought the very 
spirit of youth and vital joy into the room with 
her. Jamie Wintoun was sitting by the window 
pretending to read. He was really watching for 
Katherine. 

“ Why, Jamie !” she said. “ Will any kind of 
a storm keep you away from Levens-hope?” 

“ None, while you are here, Katherine. I 


58 The Flower of Gala Water . 


have been so uneasy ; but I knew you would be 
annoyed if I came to meet you.” 

“ Indeed I should ! This lonely ride to the 
manse is the last shred of liberty left me. I do 
not know what I should' do without it. Every 
other hour of the day is, in some way or other, 
under his control and surveillance.” 

“ Uncle’s words are always worse than his in- 
tents, I think.” 

“ He says he is going to send me back to 
school.” 

“ What have you been doing, Katherine ?” 

“ I was, it seems, too civil to a guest, and not 
attentive enough to you.” 

Wintoun colored painfully, but he replied, 
with a great deal of spirit : 

“ Uncle Brathous is too interfering in my per- 
sonal affairs. I have not complained of your 
treatment, Katherine. Even if I had cause for 
complaint, I should not ask him to interfere.” 

“ And Jessy was quite as attentive to Mr. 
Mowbray as I was.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


59 


“ Yes/' he answered, but the tone was du- 
bious. He felt that Jessy had a freedom in this 
matter Katherine ought not to claim ; but then 
it was useless to say so. Then there were a few 
moments of embarrassed silence. Katherine 
wanted Wintoun to continue the conversation 
about Mowbray, and Wintoun knew this, but 
the subject was a painful one ; he could not in- 
stantly compel his own acquiescence, and while 
he hesitated, Katherine asked, with forced in- 
difference : 

“ Jamie, what do you think of Mr. Mowbray ?” 

“ You ought not to ask me that question, 
Katherine.” 

“Why?” 

“ Because you know I love you. How can 
you expect me to praise a man who may be my 
rival ?” 

“ Nonsense !” she said ; but Wintoun noticed 
that a vivid blush covered her face and throat, 
and that she went to the window and began to 
sing in order to hide her feeling. In a 


6o 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


few moments she returned to the fireside and 
said : 

“ He has gone to Edinburgh.” 

“ But he will return.” 

“ How can you tell that ? Did he say so to 
you, Jamie ?” 

“ My heart tells me so. He admired you very 
much, Katherine. I do not blame him for that. 
Who could help it ?” 

“ Yet my guardian blames me for it, Jamie. 
You will not let him send me back to school?” 

“ Give me the right to protect you, dearest ! 
Then no one shall ever say a word to cross you.” 

“ Always that is the way!” she cried, with 
tears in her eyes and voice. “ I am to become 
your wife in order to escape my stepfather’s dic- 
tation. It would be simply a change of mas- 
ters. Now no one can be generous because no 
one is unselfish.” 

“ Do not be so unjust, Katherine. I will not 
ask you to be my wife one hour before you are 
so willingly. Dearest, I love you so truly that 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


6 1 


I can live without you and yet live for 
you.” 

He came toward her as he spoke, and 
Katherine, looking into his face, saw it illumi- 
nated by his generosity of unselfish love. At 
that moment the tall, ungraceful youth was 
almost handsome ; and she gaVe him her hand 
and said, simply : 

“ Thank you, Jamie !” 

Then a footman brought in a tea-tray, and 
Mrs. Brathous came downstairs. She was flushed 
and worried, and said : 

“ The laird has taken cold and fears a 
fever.” 

Wintoun made some sympathetic remark, but 
Katherine was lost in thought, and the meal was 
not a pleasant one. It was scarcely finished 
when the laird sent for his wife, and Katherine, 
casting about for something to pass the evening 
which would not permit Wintoun too much op- 
portunity for conversation, bethought her of a 
new book of border music ; and she proposed 


62 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


that they should learn some of the songs to- 
gether. 

Wintoun was delighted. He knew that he 
could sing, and to mingle his voice with Kath- 
erine’s voice was a rare pleasure. So they 
looked through the book, and Wintoun struck 
boldly out with : 

“ March ! March ! Etterick and Teviotdale !” 

He played the stirring notes with spirit and 
decision. Their voices blended charmingly. 
And the room seemed suddenly full of mount- 
ing troopers and the stir and bustle of galloping 
horses. There was no weak note under Win- 
toun’s fingers. The men of Eskdale and of 
Twist dale went flying past to bugle tones, and 
they were just calling musically one to the 
other : 

“All the blue bonnets are over the Border !” 

when Mrs. Brathous entered the room, with a 
worried face and a lifted hand. 

“ Katherine ! Jamie !” she cried. “ You must 


The Flower of Gala Water. 63 


stop playing- to-night ! The laird is very nerv- 
ous. He says it excites him, and he has some 
fever already. He thinks both of you are very 
unkind, and he insists on the piano being closed 
at once.” 

Of course, he was obeyed, and Katherine then 
suggested a game of chess. But a chill had 
fallen upon her sunny mood. She was distrait 
and discouraged, and she moved her pieces 
without consideration. Wintoun had no wish 
to checkmate her. He played as badly as she 
did. At last Katherine stood hastily up. She 
laid her hands over the board, looked steadily 
at her antagonist, and said, in a voice whose 
tone was authoritative and decisive : 

“ Jamie, we are both playing a false game. 
Let us withdraw before either of us has to say, 
‘ I have lost !’ ” 

She then swept the pieces into their box, 
closed the lid, and put them away. The action 
had a kind of prophetic fatefulness, a prescience 
unforeseen and unplanned, endued with some- 


64 The Flower of Gala Water , 

what of omnipotence. Its effect upon Wintoun 
was almost that of a sign from heaven. He did 
not doubt it, or analyze its meeting, or ask 
“ Why ?” it affected him so. He only felt that 
in a moment all had changed for him. A sud- 
den despair invaded his heart. He knew that 
he had lost Katherine. He might reason him- 
self back to hope, but at the end all her flatter- 
ing tales would vanish, he was sure. A pitiless 
truth had been flashed upon his consciousness 
that hour, and he could not dispute it. 

Katherine was annoyed at herself. Why had 
she said those words ? Why had she suddenly 
stopped their play ? She felt in the silence that 
followed a strange regret that she had spoken, 
and that he had understood. For once her ever- 
ready thought failed her. She could not find a 
sentence — no, nor a word to say. She stirred 
the fire and moved the small table aside, and 
then almost unwillingly looked at Wintoun. 
And her eyes opened on him like a Book of Rev- 
elation. 



JAMIE, WE ABE BOTH PLAYING A FALSE . GAME ,” — See Page 63. 



The Flower of Gala Water . 65 


Sighing deeply, he arrested his dismayed 
soul, and tried to find some commonplace re- 
mark which would dispel that uncanny sense of 
fateful foreknowledge. He went to a large 
window and drew aside the curtains. The 
whole land was wrapped in winding-sheets of 
mist, with a ghost of moonshine in them ; and 
for the first time in his life he was aware of that 
occult world which every one carries about with 
him. 

“ Katherine,” he said, sadly, “ I will go home 
now. I have got an ailing heart to-night.” 

“ I am sorry, Jamie. But an ailing heart is 
better than a bad one, and Brathous has spoiled 
our evening.” 

As she uttered the words Mrs. Brathous en- 
tered the room. 

“ Jamie, your uncle wants you,” she said. “ I 
hope you will not contradict him about any- 
thing to-night. He is so nervous and hard to 
manage.” 

Wintoun only bowed in reply. He was by no 


66 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


means in a conciliatory temper, and the sight of 
the unreasonable, imaginary invalid was an irri- 
tating one. His head, large and oblong, had 
the hoariness of yellow mixed with gray. His 
sheep eyes were watery and furtive. His tongue 
— always too big for his mouth — was the organ 
of a voice hollow, querulous, and yet authorita- 
tive. He was sitting up in bed, with a large 
tartan plaid over his shoulders. 

“ You see what a man gets who serves the 
public !” he cried. “ Little honor and no sym- 
pathy ! You and Katherine were singing away 
as if the laird of Levens-hope was in the very 
height of perfect health.” 

“ Have you sent for me in order to quarrel, 
uncle ?” 

“ Quarrel ! Quarrel ! Who speaks of quar- 
reling? Think shame of yourself, James Win- 
toun ! I sent for you because I want you and 
Katherine Janfarie to tie yourselves together as 
soon as may be. I am tired out with so much 
love-making in my house. I have finished my 


The Flower of Gala Water. 67 


own share of that silly business, and it is not 
pleasant to have song-singing and reel-dancing 
and such like havers night after night.” 

“ I cannot marry Katherine until she gives 
me permission.” 

“ Permission, indeed ! I wonder who is her 
guardian ? I have given you permission. Go 
back and tell her I will allow her to choose any 
day between this and Michaelmas.” 

“ I will tell her nothing of the kind, sir. I 
doubt if Katherine and I will ever marry. I do 
not think she loves me, and I do not wish to 
marry her unless she does.” 

“ Are you gone clean daft, James Wintoun ? 
You will marry Katherine. Of course you will! 
I intend to see to that. Do you think I will 
have dead folk worried out of their graves and 
live folk worried into them for Katherine’s non- 
sense ?” 

“ Katherine’s feelings are to be consulted.” 

“ Katherine’s feelings ! Heard one ever the 
like? A bit of a schoolgirl, that has not come 


68 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


to her feelings any more than she has come to 
her reason ! I will remind you that I hold a 
mortgage on Wintoun lands, and that you are 
looking to Katherine’s money to pay me.” 

“ I am doing nothing of the kind, sir. I 
would not marry Katherine for her money. I 
do not care that for her money !” And Win- 
toun snapped his fingers passionately almost in 
his uncle’s face. 

“ You are a born fool, then ! The man of this 
day who does not care for money can go out of 
date and break his heart if he likes to. Out of 
my presence, anyway, sir ! You have made me 
a great deal worse, and likely as not I shall bide 
awake all night for your ridiculous nonsense !” 
Then he rang the bell furiously, and called out 
at the same moment : “ Helen ! Helen ! Come 
you here ! Helen, send for Doctor Musgrave ! 
Peter Symington, ride for the doctor ! I have 
had a chill ! I ’ll be having a fever next ! What 
kept you, Helen ?” And so on, until Wintoun 
was glad to escape the rasping, unreasonable 


The Flower of Gala Water . 69 


voice. The chill wind and the drifting vapors 

were more kindly and comfortable compan- 

/ 

ions. 

The next morning the laird was still sick, and 
the house was wretched, but the mist was so 
thick Katherine did not dare to go over the 
hills. And this condition continued for four 
days. Then Sabbath came, and she found her 
way to church, and afterward to the manse ; but 
there was no great comfort in either place. The 
minister was preoccupied, and Jessy never 
named Mowbray. Moreover, she treated Kath- 
erine’s one question about him as if the subject 
bored her. 

“ He has forgotten our very existence, I dare 
say, Katherine ; and we need not worry our- 
selves about his. He was seeking pleasure, and 
we made an hour or two for him. I am quite 
sure that he will just mingle us up with the fine 
views, the driving, the fishing, the sight-seeing 
and the other bonnie lassies that he will dance 
or reel with,” 


7o 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ Then I am real sorry, Jessy. I liked him 
more than that, and I will even tell you 
so.” 

“ Dear, why should you ? Men are never to 
trust to. Father said this one would be ‘ dan- 
gerous.’ ” 

“ Oh, Jessy, if you would love me a little !” 

Then Jessy understood her friend’s trouble, 
and she talked sensibly no longer. She turned 
her tongue and began to praise Mr. Mowbray. 
She said the like of him in looks had never been 
seen on Tweedside, and that a blind man might 
have known that he gave his heart away the 
moment he looked at Katherine. 

“ Yes, dear,” she said, “ as he sat there and 
you stood at the open door, he got a wound he 
will never get over.” 

It was not that Katherine confessed her love. 
It was that Jessy divined it, and that, with the 
unselfishness of a true friend, she hastened to 
give the only sympathy that is of value — the 
assurance of whatever we wish to believe. This 


The Flower of Gala Water. 




conversation began before tbe morning service, 
and was continued in the noon interval. Kath- 
erine’s heart was full of her small domestic 
troubles, and she could no longer restrain her 
confidence. She told Jessy how ill-tempered and 
tyrannical the laird was to every one, but espe- 
cially to herself. 

“ I am at his mercy,” she said, “and he 
makes me feel it every hour. If I practice my 
music, the piano affects his nerves. If he finds 
me with a novel, he asserts that it is improper 
reading and takes it away. Poetry offends him 
still more deeply.” 

“ Father says the laird is very narrow and 
bigoted about literature. He thinks Robert 
Burns covers the ground.” 

“ Yesterday I put a piece of heliotrope at my 
throat, and he made me remove it. He said the 
scent of the thing made him have a faintness. 
I pointed out several pieces in the vases, and he 
answered if I would wear a vase full of other 
flowers with heliotrope, he might perhaps en- 


2 The Flower of Gala Water . 


dure it. He makes the same objection to any 
other flower I choose. He takes dislikes to all 
the gowns I look well in, and I really can only 
dress myself in a gray winsey or a Galashiel’s 
tartan with any comfort. All my friends are in 
some way objectionable. The Heriots are 
flighty ; the Netherby girls are extravagant ; 
the Hislops are vulgar ; the Fenwicks are be- 
yond bearing for their pride ; and so on and so 
on. If it was not for the minister, he would 
cross you off my visiting list also.” 

“ Why does he do such things ?” 

“ Only because he is a natural tyrant. He 
loves to show his power, and I am completely in 
it. Until lately I did not mind him very much. 
I had mamma and you, and everything outside 
gave me joy. I wore my pretty dresses when I 
came here, and played and sang when he was 
out of the house, and carried my novels and 
poetry to my own room ; and as long as I could 
visit Jessy Telfair, I cared nothing for the 
Heriots or for anybody else.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


73 


“ You have Jamie Wintoun also on your side. 
Jamie is a multitude.” 

“ Jamie is well enough.” 

“Well enough! And Jamie is to be your 
husband !” 

“ No, he is not. I vow I will never marry 
him. Jamie knows how I feel. I made him 
understand the other night. I did not mean to 
hurt him, but I fear I did, for he has not been 
to Levens-hope since, and the laird was fretting 
and fuming about his ‘ nephew’s wrongs ’ all 
the time I ate my breakfast this morning.” 

“ Poor Jamie Wintoun ! He is such a good- 
hearted, honorable soul !” 

“ He may have all the good qualities that 
exist, Jessy, and yet he has never made me in 
all these years care for him as some one made 
me care with a glance and a sigh and a touch of 
his hand. And this Some One has all Jamie’s 
good qualities added to his own special ones.” 

“ Besides all those other excellencies which 
you are constantly inventing for him ?” 


74 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ Very likely I do invent some. Every woman 
has to invent for the man she loves her ideal 
virtues. Not one in a thousand has them nat- 
urally.” 

On these topics they talked with an ever in- 
creasing interest. The kirk-bell rang, and the 
minister prayed and preached, and the congre- 
gation scattered over the hills, and Katherine 
still lay upon Jessy’s bed, with a headache and 
a heartache, telling her griefs and despairs, and 
listening to hopes and likelihoods, angry a lit- 
tle, weeping a little, but with all, finding great 
comfort in Jessy’s reasonable and unreasonable 
friendship. k 

When Doctor Telfair came back from the 
afternoon service, Jessy boldly defended her 
own and Katherine’s delinquency. 

“ Katherine is really sick,” she said, “ and I 
stayed at home with her. And you ought to go 
and give the laird a good scolding, father. He 
is simply an outrageous domestic tyrant.” 

“ He thinks he is doing his duty.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


75 


“ He knows he is overdoing his duty. And it 
is the overdoing that delights him/’ 

“ What was Katherine crying about?” 

“ Crying?” 

“ Yes, I heard her sobbing. Poor little lassie ! 
What was she crying for ?” 

“ For the moon, I think.” 

“ You mean for that Mr. Mowbray she met 
here?” 

“ Yes ; that is what I mean.” 

“ Jessy, you are a wise wee body, and I will 
tell you something. You must judge whether 
to speak or to be quiet. I have had three news- 
papers from the young man. His name is in all 
of them. I have no doubt they were intended 
for Katherine. He was sure I would tell you, 
and equally sure that you would carry the mes- 
sage to Katherine.” 

“Where are the papers, father? Why did 
you not tell me before ? A Babylonish signet 
would have been more wisely read by you than 
a roundabout love message,” 


76 The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ I am not altogether without a sense of the 
tender passion, Jessy. I live yet, my daughter, 
in a shadow of the bygone. But I was thinking 
of Wintoun, who is a very pleasant young man 
and living within my own bounds and parish.” 

“ Katherine will never marry Jamie Win- 
toun.” 

“ The laird will make her.” 

“ She is beyond his ‘ make ’ now.” 

“ Not until she is of age.” 

“ Pshaw ! She came of age the day she met 
Richard Mowbray. Father, you are ten times 
greater than the laird. Stir yourself up for 
poor Katherine, who is likely to be driven dis- 
tracted between Brathous and Wintoun.” 

“ A word in such a matter. Jessy, is like a 
mustard seed and may grow into a great tree, 
and with all my college learning and soul wis- 
dom, I might be put to the wall by two bits of 
lassies not out of their teens yet. I am not even 
very sure if I ought to let you have the news- 
papers.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


77 


“ I have taken your first word on that subject, 
father, and so I will never heed your second, 
which is nothing but a doubt, anyway. Mysie 
will give you a good tea. I looked well to it. 
Mine has gone upstairs with Katherine’s. We 
would only be talking un-Sabbathlike if we came 
down ; and, besides, you would feel it to be your 
duty to forbid us looking at the papers to-day, 
and that would be a dreadful trial.” 

An involuntary glance at the papers when 
Doctor Telfair first spoke of them had revealed 
their situation to Jessy. They were on a book- 
shelf, and she took possession of them with a 
nod and a smile, and ran upstairs with the fleet 
feet of love. The evening meal had been set 
by the window, and Katherine had risen and 
was pouring the boiling water upon the leaves 
of the tea as Jessy entered. The peculiar re- 
freshing odors of Pekoe and young Hyson filled 
the room, and there was a wan smile upon Kath- 
erine’s face ; for the young have to be very de- 
spairing, indeed, before the succulent juices of 


78 The Flower of Gala Water . 


flesh and luscious sweetness of creams fail to in- 
terest them. The idea of a good meal had been 
accepted by Katherine at first with the resigna- 
tion- which a sense of personal duty inspires, 
but it was fast becoming a pleasurable anticipa- 
tion. 

Jessy’s face flashed to her hope and expecta- 
tion, and Katherine put down the little brass 
kettle and looked at her friend, with breathless 
interest. Selfish people like to play with good 
news, to make riddles and surprises and please 
themselves, but Jessy shut the door and said 
promptly : 

“ Dear, if you want to know about Mr. Mow- 
bray, here are three newspapers with his name 
in them. He sent them to father. Of course, 
he knew they would be given to you. Love has 
many strange postmen. Only think of him 
sending the minister — Doctor Telfair himself, 
and no less !” 

She was turning over one paper as she spoke, 
and the others were in Katherine’s hands, A 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


79 


pencil mark quickly directed their attention to 
the proper lines. 

“ Here is the first notice,” said Jessy. “ ‘ Bal- 
moral Hotel, Edinburgh, Richard Mowbray, 
Mowbray, Westmoreland.’ How the name 
stands out among a score of other names !” 

“ He looked at it,” said Katherine, and the 
words caught light from his eyes. “ Here is the 
second notice : ‘ Perth, Richard Mowbray, 

Mowbray, Westmoreland.’ What is he doing 
in Perth, Jessy ? Did he speak of Perth before 
I came ?” 

“ I think not. This is the latest paper, May 
15. 'Wick, Caledonian Hotel.’ ” 

“ Wick ! Whatever has he gone to Wick for ? 
It is almost at John O’Groat’s — at the last foot 
of Scottish ground.” 

“ I think I know. He spoke of an aunt who 
lived in the Orkneys. The next paper, I dare 
say, will come from Kirkwall.” 

Katherine’s headache and heartache were 
now gone, blown off John O’Groat’s, far away 


8o 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


over the great Northern Sea. It was charming 
to see how brightly and swiftly the color came 
back to her cheeks and the light to her eyes. 
She was hungry then, and she poured out the 
tea, and enjoyed her slice of mountain mutton, 
and very much enjoyed her tarts and tinctured 
cream ; the while she talked softly, and smiled 
and dimpled, and was as happy as she had been 
miserable. The laird was now a nonentity. 
She felt even a trifle belligerent toward him. 
Wintoun’s absence was no longer annoying. 
Jessy promised to see the young man and find 
out what was the worst of the trouble there. 
And after a delicious, delightful meal, Kath- 
erine rode slowly and hopefully home between 
the two lights, with three little scraps of news- 
paper in her silk purse. As for the purse, it 
was hidden away safely close to her heart ! 



CHAPTER III. 

DESTINY. 


What is love ! ’tis not hereafter ; 

Present mirth hath present laughter. 

What ’s to come is still unsure ; 

In delay there lies no plenty. 

Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty, 

Youth ’s a stuff will not endure. 

— Twelfth Night. 

When Mowbray came first to Gala Water the 
primroses were starring the meadows and 
hedgerows, when he came again the roses were 
beginning to bloom. The interval was not a 
happy one to Katherine, for if love makes a 
man cunning it makes a woman self-willed. 

r si j 


82 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


Without actual knowledge of Mowbray’s char- 
acter she had assured herself that he was the 
mate of her soul, and that it would be a kind of 
sin to hesitate in her allegiance. She had seen 
Mowbray but a few hours. Wintoun had been 
her familiar for years, but no doubt had trou- 
bled her decision against Wintoun. Almost 
without consideration or without conscious in- 
tent she had made her old lover understand 
that she had decided against him ; and Win- 
toun, not usually quick to apprehend, had been 
positive of this decision, though the words 
which had enlightened him admitted of another 
construction. 

His uncle’s temper had suddenly forced him 
to take a position which he had not considered, 
and which on reflection he regretted. He had, 
in fact, spoken more proudly* and chivalrously 
than he felt. The next morning he could not 
endure the thought of resigning Katherine. 
To give her up implied the unsettling of all his 
life, and he was a young man whose happiness 


Ike Flower of Gala Water . 83 


depended upon its being fixed and methodical. 
Unusual events and emotions disturbed his 
equilibrium, threw him out of his orbit, and he 
felt like some forlorn castaway. Katherine was 
lovely and lovesome, and he had got the habit 
of loving her. In tearing herself from him she 
inflicted a wound, and suffering of any kind was 
a new sensation to Wintoun. He resented it, 
and his uncle had been the first recipient of his 
resentment. 

But his heart-suffering was not all. Kath- 
erine’s desertion would wound his personal and 
family pride in the keenest manner. He could 
imagine how young Heriot and Jack Netherby 
and Harry Forster would condole with him. 
He was aware that he had “ peacocked ” about 
Katherine’s love for him and his alliance with 
the Flower of Gala Water in a way to merit the 
sympathizing retaliation which was sure to 
come. How they would twit him with the Eng- 
lishman’s triumph ! How they would condole 

with him because he lived three hundred years 

r 


84 The Flower of Gala Water. 


too late and could no longer “ ride ” into West- 
moreland and “ lift ” Mowbray’s cattle and corn 
and carry off Mowbray’s wife ! Not naturally a 
very bright young man, his imagination had at 
this crisis a terrible vividness. 

Nor could he afford to be quite oblivious of 
his uncle’s threat. It was true that Brathous 
had part of his estate in pawn. He had been 
made fatherless at an early age, and his mother 
had not been equal to her position as guardian 
of a large landed estate. She had left it in dif- 
ficulties which Brathous had assumed and hith- 
erto managed with great skill ; but in financial 
matters, if his uncle went against him, what 
could he do ? 

These reflections, added to a severe cold, pro- 
duced a fever which kept him at home for a 
week. Katherine thought she was to blame for 
his absence. The laird was sure his nephew 
was brooding over the angry words he had said 
— both were blaming themselves somewhat and 
both were anxious to be friends again. During 


The Flower of Gala Water. 85 


that week there had been hours, if he had known 
them', when he might have greatly influenced 
both his love and his creditor ; for it is not in 
any life opportunity is wanting ; it is the soul, 
alas ! that is either ignorant of its “ hour ” or 
else too fearful to claim it. 

In any case, Wintoun let it slip, and every 
day took it farther away. Katherine received 
the hope which had been sent to her through 
the vagrant newspapers, and after that Sabbath 
day she felt no more compunctions about Win- 
toun. 

Her rapturous joy in the peradventure 
messages overcame such weak and transitory 
regrets and doubts as had assailed her in her 
loneliness. 

“ I will have the blessedness of loving as well 
as of being loved,” she said to herself, as she 
went home with the three bits of paper in her 
possession. “ Jamie may love me, but I do not 
love him ; and even Jamie has the habit of lov- 
ing more than the divine passion of the condi- 


86 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


tion. I will wait for Richard Mowbray. He is 
sure to come.” 

She was then sorry that Jessy had promised 
to say a conciliating word to Wintoun. She 
wished she had told her to leave affairs as they 
were. The laird’s anger at his nephew’s ab- 
sence would be easier to bear than Jamie’s re- 
proachful eyes and the frightened attempts to 
please her which he would be certain to make. 
She hoped some good fate would prevent Jessy 
seeing Wintoun until she could contradict her 
desire. But Jessy was no. lukewarm friend. 
She persuaded her father to take her to Win- 
toun House early on Monday morning, and 
while the minister went to talk with a sick 
plowman Jessy took the unhappy lover seriously 
to task. 

“ Running away even before your rival is on 
the ground ! I am ashamed of you, Jamie Win- 
toun ! The man may never come near Gala 
Water again. He may have seen some other 
pretty girl as he went through the Scottish 


The Flower of Gala Water. 87 


land. He may have a sweetheart in Eng- 
land.” 

“ He is sure to come back here. I feel it.” 

“ No one’s feelings are to trust to. They are 
simply the most unreliable of evidence. Sup- 
pose he does come back ! What then ! Lord 
Taunton admired Katherine, and came back 
and back, and then went his way and married 
another woman.” 

“ Mr. Mowbray fell in real love with Kath- 
erine. I know he did.” 

“ What do you know of real love ?” 

“ I think I know all about it, Jessy.” 

“ You do not. If you were in real love would 
you stop away from Katherine for anything or 
any one? No. You would press your case 
morning, noon and night. You would get Kath- 
erine’s mother oy your side. You would seek 
your uncle’s active help, for if he set himself to 
worry Katherine she would marry or drown 
herself to get beyond him — and if you had a 
thimbleful of good sense you would be coaxing 


88 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


me this very minute to say the good words you 
have not spirit enough to say for yourself. 
Jamie Wintoun, order your best horse and put 
on your best coat and away over to Levens-hope 
and ask for what was promised you ; and then 
see to it that you let no one say ‘ No. ’ ” 

He looked at the pretty, bright girl standing 
before him, and he could not help admiring 
her. He also liked her lecture. It brought a 
flush of color to his cheeks and a very pleasant 
warmth to his heart. She was the incarnation 
of hope and resolution ; and her trig tweed suit, 
her soft derby, with its one erect eagle feather, 
and her gloved hands seemed to express to him 
the idea of enterprise — of something to be done. 

“ I will act in whatever way you think best, 
Jessy,” he said ; “ that is, I will do as well as I 
can. I do not know how Unjfle Brathous will 
take my call. He told me to leave his house, 
and he has not sent for me again.” 

“ Are you waiting for a gracious word from 
this ‘ son of Nabal ?’ He has not’such a thing 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


in his keeping. But I warrant he is longing 
to see you, for the number of people who 
care for his company is very small, indeed. 
Beck and bow a bit to his lairdship ; there is no 
shame in humoring a spoiled man for your own 
ends. And in order to see Katherine you must 
see Brathous. Put your pride in your pocket 
and tell Katherine you have done it for her 
sake. You may be in real love, Jamie, but it is 
clear to me you do not know the first thing 
about making real love/’ 

“ What is the first thing, Jessy?” 

“ Ask Katherine that question and look in her 
face the way you are looking now, and she will 
maybe answer you. Such a coat as you have 
on ! Such old slippers on your neat little feet ! 
You ought to think shame of yourself, Jamie, 
for none can look better than you can if you 
take the least trouble to look well.” 

“ I wish Katherine thought so. Mowbray is 
a very handsome man.” 

“ He is different to you, but he is not hand- 


§0 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


somer. He has brown eyes and you have blue ; 
he has black hair and you have brown. You 
are both slender, and you are the taller. It is a 
matter of taste. Most women would think you 
the better looking. I am sure you have the best 
heart and the best temper. I dare say also, if it 
comes to the main argument, you have the long- 
er purse. It is not lady -like to bet, you know, 
Jamie, or I would bet on you.” 

“ I ought to wait for the minister’s return.” 

“ It is not necessary. I will make a proper 
excuse for you. Father will talk to Tom Tytler 
for an hour if they get to socialism, and some- 
how even the Bible leads men there nowadays. 
I can amuse myself with the piano and she 
gave him a bright nod of dismissal, and began 
to sing, with a mocking lamentation : 

“ Oh, Love, you’ve been a villain, since the days of Troy 
and Helen ; 

When you caused the fall of Paris, and of very many 
more !” 

He went away laughing at her impeachment, 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


9 1 


and Jessy did not finish the verse. Her face 
grew somber, even sad. She lifted a book, 
opened it upside down, and pretended to read. 
The agitation of self-consciousness made her 
uncomfortable ; and she knew that she had been 
playing a part. 

“ I do not care much for Jamie myself,” she 
said ; then she suddenly flung down the book 
and went into the garden. The tone of her own 
voice frightened and informed her, for there 
was undoubtedly in it that curiously unsatis- 
factory ring which may always be heard in the 
renunciation of the unaccepted. 

As she walked restlessly to and fro she saw 
Wintoun go out of the court-yard on his finest 
horse, and she stood still and watched him ride 
at a steady gallop over the hills. 

“ He is a good man and he has a sensible 
mind, though he is never in the clouds,” she 
thought. “ Poor Jamie ! If he only had wings 
and a little sacred fire, then Katherine might 
love him. What has Mowbray that he has not? 


92 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


Just that sacred fire that glows and warms and 
makes a woman’s heart like wax before its 
flame. I am glad he did not look at me — nor 
sigh for me — maybe I would have caught love 
from him, too.” 

Evidently Wintoun had not this sacred flame 
to impart to Katherine ; indeed, Jessy had often 
noticed that he was cold and ill at ease in the 
presence of Katherine. And this morning he 
was subjected to peculiarly adverse influence. 
The laird, indeed, welcomed him with unmis- 
takable pleasure, but the laird had been very 
unpleasant to his wife and stepdaughter all the 
morning, and both of them regarded Wintoun’s 
unexpected visit as a golden opportunity for re- 
venging his uncle’s bad temper. 

They therefore received the young man with 
a formal politeness which was chilling. Mrs. 
Brathous asked after his cold and his lungs, and 
then became absorbed in Katherine’s embroid- 
ery. Katherine gave him her hand and a few 
sympathetic platitudes and returned to her con- 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


93 


sultation about colors with her mother. Then 
the laird made some contemptuous remarks 
about women, and Mrs. Brathous left the room, 
while Katherine bent lower over her work, and 
Wintoun was miserably conscious of his unfor- 
tunate situation. 

Somehow he felt also that the ladies had 
tacitly relegated him to the position of the 
laird’s friend and nephew. He understood why 
he was being thus punished, and was angry at 
his uncle for bringing him into such disfavor ; 
and yet he knew that a quarrel with Brathous 
was a quarrel with all his opportunities. What 
then could he do but submit to circumstances he 
found himself unable to control? Because it 
was only in submission he could find oppor- 
tunity to retrieve himself. 

He was, unfortunately, thirty-six hours too 
late, and it might as well have been a lifetime. 
Had he sought Katherine’s presence on Satur- 
day, instead of Monday, he might have found 
her in that mood of despair which is grateful 


94 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


for affection ; but Sunday had brought her hope, 
and she was sanguine and happy, and far more 
inclined to look forward to her new lover than 
to enter into sentimental conversation with her 
old one. 

Day after day Wintoun went the same hope- 
less road. The laird scolded and threatened, 
but he could find nothing tangible to complain 
of, though he was quite sure there was every- 
thing to complain of. For, though Katherine 
rode and walked and talked and sang with Win- 
toun very much after the usual form, all could 
see that it was but a form — that the old girlish 
kindness and freedom which had been its spirit 
were gone, and that though they were very con- 
stantly together, there was a wall of separation 
between them, transparent, but more impass- 
able than adamant. 

It was in this daily veiled antagonism that the 
laird first found out the power of the majority. 
Katherine’s womanhood had made her her 
mother’s ally, and Mrs. Brathous began to show 


The Flower of Gala Water. 55 


signs of restlessness and rebellion under the 
laird’s domestic autocracy which amazed her 
husband, and ought to have given him notice 
that his reign of terror was over. There were 
now two against one, and he was sure that Win- 
toun would join the enemy, either on his first 
open disapproval or their first open favor. 
Then there would be three wills against his 
will. In that case he doubted, and consequently 
he feared. 

But the spring grew to summer and the roses 
were blowing in the rose-garden and the blue 
heaven and green earth and soft wind made the 
place around Levens-hope a little bit of paradise. 
Katherine, however, had been for ten days rest- 
less and unhappy, for the laird, as a last annoy- 
ance, had forbidden her visits to the manse. 
He said it was “ because the hillsides were in- 
fested with ‘ trippers ’ and ‘ tourists ’ whom 
nobody knew, and who were not to be trusted.” 
He gave his gamekeeper the strictest charges 
about the woods and the trout streams, and 


§6 The Flower of Gala Water . 


vowed “ he would be glad enough if some strav- 
agers round Levens-hope got a shot or two.’ 

Katherine knew that he was hitting Mowbray 
over her shoulder, and she talked scornfully to 
her mother about the coward wish. 

“ Because, mamma,” she said, “he will not 
have the courage to utter one word to Mr. Mow- 
bray if he ever does come here again. He will 
pretend to be delighted to see him. He will 
carry him to the stalls to praise his prize oxen, 
and then wink at the gamekeeper to do his 
dastard will for him.” 

And Mrs. Brathous did not defend her hus- 
band or invent excuses for him, as she had been 
wont to. 

However, Katherine knew that if any news 
came, or any event occurred which was of in- 
terest, Jessy would be sure to let her know in 
some way. Jessy’s resources were infinite, 
though generally it was enough to move the 
minister to make all other moves successful. 
So Katherine’s heart beat fast one morning when 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


97 


she saw Doctor Telfair at the door very early. 
He said he had come to take the laird to Selkirk 
for a day or two. There was to be an important 
meeting of the clergy there anent a matter of 
heresy. 

“ And, Brathous,” he added, “ it is such men 
of the laity as yourself who must stand by the 
clergy.” 

Brathous was well pleased to go. If there 
was a tittle of creed to settle, he was just the 
man to strain at a gnat. Before he had finished 
dressing for the journey he had persuaded him- 
self that the meeting at Selkirk would be at a 
dead loss if he was not present. Yet amid all 
the theological importance he felt, he did not 
forget to give Katherine a strict injunction not 
to leave Levens-hope unless in the company of 
her mother. The minister said he had a mes- 
sage from Jessy which would break that order, 
but the laird would hear tell of no inter- 
ference. 

“ It was beyond talking of,” he said. 


98 The Flower of Gala Water. 


When the two men were out of sight, Kath- 
erine turned to her mother. 

“ Never mind, Katherine, my dearie/' said 
that lady, cheerfully, “ I am going to Galashiels 
this afternoon, and I can leave you with Jessy 
till I return." 

“ Can you not go this morning, mamma?" 

“ No. I wish I could. But I have the dairy 
and linen-room to attend to this morning, else 
we would start immediately and make a day of 
it. But we can bring Jessy back with us." 

“ Mamma, darling, you are as kind as you are 
pretty, and that is saying a great deal !" and the 
pleasant words and the kiss which went with 
them sent Mrs. Brathous to her household 
duties with a light heart. 

“ It is such an easy thing to make people 
happy," she reflected, as she sat down with the 
dairy book and began to count the quarts of 
cream and the pounds of butter it represented. 

Meantime, Katherine had one of those warm 
impressions, those instinctively sagacious pre- 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


99 


sentiments which enable a sensitive soul to an- 
ticipate events. She knew Richard Mowbray 
was coming. The soft, warm breeze told her 
so ; the birds sang the news to her ; the flowers 
nodded and waved and blushed their conscious- 
ness of the event. Her heart beat with the 
sweetest tremors ; her eyes had in them that 
clear, far-off gaze which shows the soul to be on 
the lookout. She was suddenly anxious about 
her appearance ; suddenly aware of being 
pressed for time, and she ran upstairs as if she 
had not a moment to lose. 

A simple little gown of finest lawn and white 
as light had just been laid upon her bed. She 
put it on, she belted it with a white ribbon, she 
loosened her braided hair, she tied on her pink 
garden-hat and she took her rush basket and 
scissors to the rose hedges. A musk-rose, pink 
and mossy, looked at her, and she gathered it 
and placed it in her girdle. Then she heard 
footsteps— voices— a low laugh— a merry strain 
of song : 


too The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ Willie Foster’s gane to sea, 

Siller buckles at his knee, 

He ’ll come back and marry me, 

Bonnie Willie Foster!” 

She instantly divined the truth. Jessy was 
coming through the garden, and some one was 
with Jessy. She knew who it was. All fear 
was gone ; hope and love made glad her heart, 
made bright her eyes, made rosy her cheeks, 
dimpled her mouth with smiles, illumined her 
face with that ultra-terrestrial charm which be- 
longs to beauty transfigured by the heart, not 
by the intellect. 

She stood motionless, erect, every sense ab- 
sorbed in listening. For one moment she had 
an impulse to answer Jessy’s song, the next mo- 
ment she felt it would be an offense to destiny. 
Love knew where she was waiting. If Mow- 
bray held her fate, he, also, ought to know. 
There was a slight hesitation, a cessation of 
human voices ; they were plucking a flower — she 
could see the bush tremble at its loss ; and be- 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


IOI 


fore she could breathe again Jessy and Mow- 
bray came into sight. 

Her eyes went straight to her lover, and they 
drew him like a magnet. In a moment he was 
at her side. She gave him her hand, and he 
kissed it. He spoke but one word, and it was 
her name. But in that one word love said 
everything. 

It was impossible then that these two 
should ever go back to the formalities that 
introduce conventional love-making. It would 
have been as absurd as to turn back a scholar 
from the highest form to the lowest. They, 
indeed, asked each other some commonplace 
questions, but they meant no more than the 
runs and chords between a singer’s verses mean. 
And Jessy was a good little Christian. In this 
case she at once resolved to do to Katherine 
precisely what she would have liked Katherine 
to do to her. She said “ she could not wait for 
them to exchange notes ; she had some impor- 
tant business with Mrs, Brathous, and they 


102 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


could find their way to the house and take their 
leisure about it !” 

Both watched her out of sight, and then some- 
how the little basket fell from Katherine’s 
hands and Mowbray was clasping both of them 
in his own. 

“ Katherine, my beauty,” he said, softly, 
“ you might have stepped out of the folded 
leaves of the rose-blossoms ! Katherine, my 
beloved, say to me one word of welcome !” 

Then she spoke, and the roses nodded with 
delight ; and the small, blithe wrens burst into 
a wild little jubilate at her answer. 

Mowbray needed only this slight encourage- 
ment. He gave her no time to qualify it. He 
wooed her as men ought to woo — with an irre- 
sistible will, with a passionate desire. And love 
is a magistrate in language. He taught Mow- 
bray words that unlocked the maiden’s heart ; 
taught him words that swayed her there among 
the lonely rose-trees, as orators sway multitudes 
in the market-place. They were often foolish 


The Flower of Gala Water. 103 


words, with no scholarly meaning, but they 
touched her with a delicious intelligence. They 
were often nothing but a sweet, impulsive, im- 
petuous iteration, but this iteration was as 
potent as the quick, recurring blows of the ham- 
mer on the anvil. If he said only “ Darling,” 
he said it twenty times, and each time it came 
hotter from his heart and went closer to hers. 

Such wooing makes an ugly man handsome ; 
it makes a handsome man but little lower than 
an angel. Mowbray had that beauty which 
catches and charms the eyes — a graceful form, 
a winning manner, regular features, and, what 
is much rarer, flesh of finest texture ; translucid 
in its paleness, so much so that his brown, ex- 
pressive eyes were not more lambent than the 
rest of his face. And Love transfigured him ; 
he was even physically divine, under the celes- 
tial emotion. 

Swiftly went that wonderful hour among the 
roses — that delectable, exquisite hour that never 
comes to any mortal but once. There were 


104 The Flower of Gala Water . 


tears of rapture in their eyes when, at last, they 
turned out of the flowery labyrinth, pledged to 
each other forever ! In their bliss they were 
assailed by a little of that weariness and melan- 
choly which all mortals must experience who 
dare the only earthly joy which holds the gift 
of immortality. Katherine fled to her room 
and fell upon her knees and wept a little and 
prayed a little in those broken ejaculations 
which are at once so childlike and so acceptable 
to the Divinity. 

Mowbray held his cup of happiness with a 
steadier hand, but he was strangely affected by 
this sweet realization of man’s capacity for a 
double existence. For it was not so much that 
something new had come into his life, as that 
something old had been returned to him. To 
love Katherine had been no fresh le'sson ; he 
had found her at first sight familiar, and the 
sense of “right” in her had been the earliest 
sensation she inspired. Admiration and affec- 
tion followed quickly, but he was certain the in- 


The Flower of Gala Water. 105 


stant and primal idea of his heart was that 
Katherine was anteriorly and inalienably his 
own. 

As he stood feeling the sweetness of this 
right, but not in any reasoning about it, Jessy 
came to him. 

“ Where is Katherine ?” she asked. 

“ Katherine is mine forever,” he answered, 
with the selfish irrelevancy of a lover ; for he 
had not yet been able to consider Katherine 
with reference to any person but himself. 

“ Well, then, Mr. Mowbray,” said Jessy, “ if 
you will take my advice you will go and talk to 
Katherine’s mother. She is just a most impor- 
tant person. This is your happy hour, and all 
its work will prosper. So do make the most 
of it.” 

He went instantly to Mrs. Brathous. She had 
just put on a new summer gown, in which she 
looked exceedingly pretty, and she was in that 
charming mood which a consciousness of good 
looks inspires; so Mowbray was one of those 


io6 The Flower of Gala Water. 


welcome guests who come just at the right time. 
She made him feel that she was glad to see him, 
and he lost not one moment in opening his case. 
He seated himself before her ; he spoke with an 
eloquence which denied all objections. In a 
few minutes he was holding her hands and beg- 
ging her to stand by Katherine and himself 
against all odds. She was not very easily per- 
suaded. She said Wintoun had looked on Kath- 
erine as his future wife for nearly seven years. 
She spoke of the laird’s long, unwavering deter- 
mination to unite the two estates by marriage. 
“ For Wintoun is his heir,” she said ; “ and 
Wintoun-Lands and Levens-hope are no mean 
patrimony.” Mowbray, however, had words far 
beyond her reasoning ; he talked with his heart, 
and she grew silent. Then the tears came to 
her eyes, and at this favorable moment Kath- 
erine entered the room and slipped within her 
mother’s arm and laid her cheek against her 
mother’s breast. 

Mrs. Brathous stooped and kissed her child. 


The Flower of Gala Water . 107 


She had begun then to give way. And Mow- 
bray’s adoration of the girl, his impetuosity, his 
determination to take no denial were irresist- 
ible. Undeniably, also, his beauty was a silent 
but powerful friend, for there seemed to be a 
natural fitness in the marriage of a man so hand- 
some with a girl so lovely. At the last Mrs. 
Brathous surrendered unconditionally. 

“ It is enough, Mr. Mowbray,” she said. “ I 
am convinced by something beyond your words. 
My heart is with Katherine and you, and I will 
stand by you to the very uttermost.” 

Then she stooped forward and kissed the 
young man, and with the kiss took him fully to 
her love and trust. 

After this happy settlement the day went to 
Love and to Love only, for the generous mother 
set the whole household to this happy key. 
While Katherine and Mowbray wandered in the 
warm, sunny garden, she talked to Jessy of the 
affair, and with her own hands spread a more 
festive table. 


10S The Flower of Gala Wader. 


“ We will let them have a day or two in para- 
dise, Jessy,” she said, “ for the laird will pull 
their happiness to pieces as soon as he finds it 
out.” 

But for once good fortune was on the side of 
the lovers. Wintoun went that very day to 
Dalkeith to assist at the marriage of a friend, 
happily oblivious of the stranger who was inter- 
meddling with his own marriage. And the 
theological fray was more fierce than had been 
anticipated ; before each man of both clergy and 
laity had said their say, four days had elapsed, 
and even then return was a little delayed, be- 
cause the laird had bought a Galloway pony, 
and a man was to hire who could ride it over to 
Levens-hope. 

So it was Saturday evening when Brathous 
reached home. He found nothing to mar the 
peace and happiness of his return. Mowbray 
had gone to Edinburgh to buy a betrothal ring, 
and he intended to remain over the Sabbath in 
the capital. Wintoun was sitting with Mrs. 


The Flower of Gala Water . 109 


Brathous and Katherine, giving them an ac- 
count of the wedding he had attended, and all 
three were in a pleasant mood of welcome. Be- 
sides which he had the further satisfaction of 
feeling that throughout all his journey he had 
seen no finer house, no more beautiful garden, 
no more admirably kept farm than his own. 

Sabbath increased his self-satisfaction. The 
elders who had not been to Selkirk were anx- 
ious to show him attention. He put a larger 
offering than usual in the plate, and was glad he 
had done so when the minister made an allusion 
to the Selkirk meeting, and to their delegate, the 
Laird of Levens-hope. Then on Monday the 
very thing happened which Katherine had fore- 
seen — Mowbray came to Levens-hope with the 
minister. They met the laird in the garden, 
and Mowbray was welcomed effusively and car- 
ried off to the stalls to see the prize ox and the 
Galloway pony. His stay to dinner was taken 
as a matter of course, and when Wintoun arrived 
Mrs. Brathous said “ she thought the three 


I IO 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


young people ought to walk over to the manse 
for Jessy ; and then they could dance a reel or 
two before supper.” 

Brathous did not like the proposition, but hav- 
ing been so good-natured hitherto, he could not 
at once summon the necessary courage to con- 
test either the walk or the dance. So Kath- 
erine, with Mowbray and Wintoun, went over 
the hill for Jessy, and the result was precisely 
what Mrs. Brathous anticipated. Jessy and 
Wintoun walked back together, and Katherine 
and Mowbray turned aside into Leven’s wood 
to see a saint’s well ; and then they were de- 
layed by the roaring of a notoriously ill-tem- 
pered bull, and could not reach home until an 
hour later. For it had taken Mowbray all that 
extra time to put the circle of gems on Kath- 
erine’s finger and to tell her how long and 
dreary the two days had' been without her. 

The delay, however, made the laird very 
angry, and he did not scruple to scold Katherine 
for it on their return. 


The Flower of Gala Water . 1 1 1 


“ It was not Miss Janfarie’s fault, sir,” said 
Mowbray, quickly. “ Pray do not let your posi- 
tion as host make you blame her in my place. I 
asked Miss Janfarie to show me the saint’s well. 
Neither of us is responsible for the furious 
animal you keep so near the high-road, and 
which — permit me to say — ought to be shot at 
once.” 

“ Mr. Mowbray, you are a stranger. Your ig- 
norance is your apology. As for Katherine,”-— 
and he looked angrily at the girl, who stood 
with her hand in Mowbray’s hand. 

Then Mowbray’s dark eyes flashed a defiance 
which the laird might have quarreled with had 
not Mrs. Brathous stepped between them with 
her charming smile. 

“Mr. Mowbray, Jessy is waiting for you. 
Katherine, you are keeping Jamie waiting for 
you. And if you want me to play a reel, you 
had better make haste while I am in the mood 
of being good-natured.” 

In spite of her merry words there was a look 


1 1 2 The Flower of Gala Water. 


of anxious deprecation in her eyes, which both 
Katherine and Mowbray respected ; for she 
knew with what magical speed suspicion grew 
in her husband’s mind. He had entertained a 
doubt, twenty would follow, and confirmation 
be close behind. So, though her fingers struck 
out the tingling notes, and the light feet of the 
happy dancers kept time to them, she could see 
the anger and dislike brooding in her lord’s 
white, weak face ; and when he suddenly 
left the parlor she knew he had gone to 
his room to walk himself into a passion of in- 
jury. 

It was upon her the storm fell. 

“ Near midnight !” he cried, when she entered 
the room. “ A woman of your age daffing and 
dancing till such hours !” 

“ Why not scold the minister? He thought 
no harm of our daffing and dancing.” 

“ He didn’t ? Then he ought to have a repri- 
mand, and I will see that he gets it.” 

“ I hope you will.” 


The Flower of Gala Water . 1 1 3 

There was a threat in the “ hope ” which was 
provoking. The laird felt it 

“ Katherine behaved herself shamefully,” he 
continued. 

“ Let Katherine alone.” 

“ I am her guardian.” 

“ I am her mother.” 

“ She was making love to that Englishman. 
I saw her.” 

“ You know nothing about love-making.” 

“ Madam ! Madam ! I — I — ” 

“ You know nothing about it.” 

“ I made love to you.” 

“You did not. If you had even tried I never 
could have married you. You asked me to be 
your wife, and I agreed because you were Kath- 
erine’s guardian — and I thought it would be as 
well to watch the guardian.” 

“ This is intolerable ! I will not bear it !” 

“ It is the truth. You will have to bear it !” 

“ It is shameful ! Shameful ! Shameful !” 

“ It is shameful that I have to invent excuses 


» 

1 1 4 The Flower of Gala Water . 

for your bad manners every time we have com- 
pany. There is no use in storming and sniffling, 
Alexander.” 

“ I will not have that Englishman in my house 
again. I will order the servants to turn him 
out.” 

“ You, yourself, asked him here. If any 
servant turns him out, I will turn the servant 
after him.” 

“ A nobody ! An adventurer ! Oh, dear me ! 
What a dreadful thing it is to have a kind 
heart l” 

“ You said he was the son of your friend. If 
he is an adventurer, what right had you to in- 
troduce him to my daughter ? A fine guardian 
you are ! And as for your kind heart, no one 
ever was or ever will be better of it. There is 
no use sitting up to worry, Alexander. Every 
one in the house is asleep, and I am going to my 
room.” 

“ I shall not sleep a wink. How gan I with 
such goings on ?” 


The Flower of Gala Water . 1 1 5 


“ You will sleep well enough. You might as 
well. Nobody will mind your staying awake. 
Good-night.” 

But in reality he did not sleep much. He 
was troubled and anxious about Wintoun ’s 
affairs, for, after Alexander Brathous, he re- 
garded James Wintoun as the person of most 
importance. He was his sister’s son, and he 
looked upon him as his own heir. His marriage 
with Katherine was the pet project of his life, 
for Katherine’s money would redeem Wintoun- 
Lands, and besides this Katherine was of the 
best blood of the Border, and her beauty and 
grace would be suitable adjuncts to his nephew’s 
wife. But there was another reason, and though 
he seldom gave it, even to himself, it was by far 
the most potent. He had taken the mortgage 
on Wintoun with some of Katherine’s money, 
and if Katherine did not marry James Win- 
toun, he would have to replace this money when 
she came of age and demanded an account of 
his stewardship. And the sum was so large 


1 1 6 The Flower of Gala Water . 


that he could only do so by mortgaging Levens- 
hope. 

It seemed to him, therefore, that it would be 
an outrageous wrong to permit the fancy of a 
mere girl to make void all his plans to save two 
fine estates — estates which in the end were to 
belong to her and her children. In fact, he told 
himself that he would not and could not have 
any interference with a project so wise and so 
beneficial for all concerned. 

Nobody had interfered yet, but he had a sus- 
picion of Mowbray, for he noticed that the Kath- 
erine who talked and danced with Wintoun was 
but a colorless shadow of the Katherine who 
talked and danced with Mowbray. She was 
sweet and polite and cold to Wintoun. She was 
light and life and flame with Mowbray. If 
Wintoun said loving words to her they fell like 
snow-flakes on steel ; if Mowbray but looked at 
her, his look lightened her eyes and burned in 
her cheeks and flashed in smiles her answer. 
The lovers had told themselves they would be 


The Flower of Gala Water. 1 1 7 


very careful. They had promised Mrs. Brath- 
ous to do or to say nothing which would rouse 
the laird’s suspicions ; but whoever succeeded 
in hiding love ? And whenever were two lovers 
even ordinarily careful ? 

The next morning a circumstance occurred 
which confirmed the anger of Brathous and 
brought about a crisis before any one was pre- 
pared for it. The laird got into a conversation 
with his upper gardener, and incidentally heard 
from him that Mr. Mowbray had been a con- 
stant visitor during the week he was from home. 
Immediately he sent a peremptory message to 
Mrs. Brathous. When it referred her to the 
seldom used large drawing-room she knew her 
husband had something particular to say, and 
that he contemplated saying it with all the em- 
phasis he desired. And she divined at once the 
subject to be discussed. 

The temper in which she intended to discuss 
was shown by the circumstance that she did 
t hurry herself in the least to answer the im- 


1 1 8 The Flower of Gala Water . 


perative order. Indeed, she delayed so long 
that she found the laird standing impatiently 
at the open door of the room, waiting for her 
approach. 

“Why do you not come quicker, Helen?” he 
asked, fretfully. “ I sent you word that you 
were to come in haste.” 

“ I was talking to Katherine. Why did you 
send for me to come to this room ? Are you 
really, at last, going to get a new carpet 
for it?” 

“ No, madam. I am not likely to have money 
for new carpets. I chose this room because I 
want to talk seriously to you, and I did not wish 
the servants to hear us.” 

She smiled scornfully, and asked : 

“ Pray what is the matter now?” 

“ Matter enough ! Why did you deceive me ? 
Were you not afraid to ask a stranger to my 
house while I was away ? One would think you 
were trying to make a match between him and 
Katherine — trying to ruin both Katherine and 


The Flower of Gala Water . 1 1 9 


ourselves. I am almost beside myself with the 
news.” 

“ Will you remember that it was you who 
asked him when he was here last? You who 
said, with your usual ridiculous effusiveness : 
‘ On your return, Mr. Mowbray, come and stay 
a few days — a few weeks if you wish ?’ If I had 
not made him welcome, you would have asked : 
‘ How I dared to turn one of your invited guests 
away?’ As for match-making — that, it seems, 
is your business. You have been planning to 
marry my poor little girl ever since you had the 
charge of her. It has been your one care for 
Katherine.” 

“ I was planning for her happiness and wel- 
fare.” 

“ Ycu were planning for your nephew. 
Jamie Wintoun may not appear to Katherine 
all that he appears to you. Katherine may not 
think it a supreme joy and privilege to use her 
money to release Wintoun-Lands — to spare your 
mortgaging Levens-hope ! Oh, I have reached 


120 The Flower of Gala Water . 


the bottom of your plans, Brathous ! Under- 
stand this ; I will not have my daughter sacri* 
ficed to carry out your plans.” 

“ I understand that you are going to ruin your 
daughter. Who is this Mowbray ?” 

“ You said you knew him.” 

“ I will tell Doctor Telfair what I think of 
him. I will that ! What right has he to bring 
the fellow to my home ?” 

“ Speak to Doctor Telfair, by all means ! He 
will tell you some truths you ought to hear. 
Quarreling with you is no pleasure. I shall not 
continue it.” 

“ I am going to send Katherine back to 
school.” 

“ Mr. Mowbray will feel much obliged to you. 
Bolts and bars cannot keep out love. Do you 
imagine the ‘ Rules ’ of a ladies’ school will be 
more successful ?” 

"You will see what I will do ! Do you think 
I shall permit a couple of silly women to break 
my plans to pieces?” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


121 


“ There has been some excellent fooling done 
by silly women in all ages, Alexander. You 
had better not try your wit against them.” 

“ My will is sufficient. I say that Katherine 
shall marry Jamie Wintoun.” 

“ If she wills, not unless.” 

Then she went out of the room and left him 
alone with his will. And there was a smile on 
her face, not like unto the smile of an obedient 
woman. It was more like the smile of a woman 
who is anticipating a controversy and is certain 
of victory. 



CHAPTER IV. 


“I MUST SEE MY BROTHER.” 


This earth whereon we dream 
Is on all sides o’ershadowed by the high 
Uno’erleaped Mountains of Necessity, 

Sparing us narrower margin than we deem. 

— Arnold, 

No joy so great but runneth to an end, 

No hap so hard but may in time amend. 

— Southwell. 

Two letters arrived at the manse very early 
next morning. One was from Mrs. Brathous to 
Jessy, asking her to request Mr. Mowbray not to 
visit Levens-hope for two or three weeks. “ She 
was,” she said, “ fully resolved to stand by the 
promise she had made him with regard to Kath- 
erine, but she must have time to consider the 
kindest and best way to manage the future.” 

[ 122 ] 


The Flower of Gala Water. 123 


In truth, the lady was much troubled and per- 
plexed. She had, perhaps, a more affectionate 
feeling toward the laird than she was really 
aware of ; at any rate, she did recognize a cer- 
tain loyalty to his interests as incumbent upon 
her. Also Jamie Wintoun had some claim to 
be considered. He had won a large share of 
her liking. She could not remember one in- 
stance in which he had been thoughtless of her 
feelings or neglectful of her wishes. To injure 
him both in his affections and his estate did 
seem a little too bad ; but she was in hopes that 
if time was taken to look at the situation rea- 
sonably, some financial arrangement favorable 
to Wintoun could be made. Hence, she wished 
Mowbray to keep out of sight, since the laird 
would only be irritated by his presence. 

The other letter was a very intemperate one 
from the laird to the minister. 

“ Dear Sir: I hope you will use the power given you to 
get the man Mowbray away from Gala Water. He is an of- 
fense to my sight and my ear, and he has been seeking 


124 Th e Flower of Gala Water. 


Katherine’s love without word or warrant from me. I think 
it is your duty as a minister to keep peace in families, and I 
expect you to get the man o’er the border to his own home, 
and also to look well after your daughter lest she make on 
meddle in matters beyond her judgment, and do more ill 
than either you or she wots of. Respectfully, 

“Alexander Brathous.’’ 

The minister, who was a man of fiery spirit, 
answered this letter promptly with two words, 
which are better not printed, especially as Jessy 
pretended not to hear them. The second reply 
was more elaborate, but just as truthful. 

“Dear Laird: I have your letter, and I am sorry for 
it. There is no excuse for such a bit of ridiculous writing. 
Mr. Mowbray going up and down Gala Water is on the 
king’s highway, and he has as much right there as you or 
any other man. As for my duty, if I fail in it, the Presby- 
tery will ask me the reason ‘why.’ I am put under neither 
laird nor master. And I will beg leave to remind you of 
your own shortcomings, for if all good people who offended 
your eyes and your ears were to be banished from Gala 
Water, you would find yourself in a desert. You are ill to 
please, laird, and that is the truth ; and if the truth hurts you 
I am only doing part of that ‘ duty ’ you remind me of. As 
for the Flower of Gala Water, I see no harm in any good 
gentleman admiring her sweet beauty and trying to win her. 
Katherine Janfarieis a woman, and is, therefore, not beyond 
wooing and winning. I believe in love marriages, laird. I 
think the union of hearts is better than that of purses. And 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


125 


I will further ask you to remember that, though you may be 
Laird of Levens, I am minister of Kirtle-hope; and that 
Levens lies within my parish and spiritual jurisdiction. You 
must give your own message to my daughter. I will carry 
ill words for no man. But I have no reasonable doubt that 
Katherine Janfarie and Jessy Telfair will continue to make 
and meddle with each other’s joys and sorrows, your orders 
and my advice to the contrary notwithstanding. For we are 
neither of us men to make the women of this day pay much 
heed to our likings and dislikings. I hope to hear tell of 
you soon in a more wise-like and Christian-like spirit ; and 
so wishing you well, I am your faithful minister, 

“John Calvin Telfair.” 

Having written this letter, Doctor Telfair 
went up the Water toward Galashiels. He 
thought it likely he would meet Mowbray, who 
was staying at the Galashiels Hotel. He was 
not sure that he meant to interfere at all with 
the young man’s love affairs ; he was simply in 
that mental condition which seeks the guiding 
of circumstances. He might meet Mowbray 
and he might not. If they did meet he might 
speak of Katherine and he might think it best 
not to do so. 

A. mile up the Water he did meet Mowbray. 
The young man was riding slowly and thought- 


126 The Flower of Gala Water. 

fully toward Levens-hope. He was very happy. 
He knew that Katherine loved him, and he did 
not spoil his joy by questioning and qualifying 
it. He was going to see her, and the sweet air, 
the bright sunshine and the spirit of summer 
were going with him. The prodigious dis- 
quietude of a selfish lover he knew nothing of. 
He was carrying his soft hat, and the fresh 
wind was blowing his hair. The bridle lay 
loosely in his grasp ; he was humming softly to 
himself a little love song. 

When the minister joined him he alighted 
from his horse, threw the bridle over his arm 
and walked by his side. There was a little 
brown wren singing on the whin bushes, and 
they stood still to watch its body incline toward 

the sun, its head thrown back, its breast swell- 
* 

ing with ecstasy. 

“ He is singing to his love,” said Mowbray. 
“ The bird is enchanted ! See how his wings 
flutter !” 

“ Wings ! Wings !” cried the minister. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


12? 


“ ‘ Wings ! that our hearts may rest 
In the radiant morning’s breast !’ 

Oh, that I had wings like a dove !” 

His face was sad ; he was already sorry for 
the letter which he had written. 

“ I have been angry this morning, Mr. Mow- 
bray,” he continued, “and I am out of favor 
with myself ; for I can tell you that the moment 
a man feels angry he has ceased striving for the 
Truth ; and he has begun to strive for himself. 
I think you had better ride to the manse. Miss 
Telfair will have a word or two to say to you. 
As for me, I must talk with my own heart for 
an hour.” 

Then Mowbray understood that there was 
some annoyance, and the laird’s behaviour on 
the previous night gave him the key to it. So 
he thanked Doctor Telfair and rode rapidly for- 
ward, his joy having been suddenly turned into 
anxiety. 

In the meantime the laird had been making 
every one at Levens as unhappy as possible. 


128 The Flower of Gala Water. 




He was scolding about the strawberry beds be- 
fore breakfast, and nothing at that meal satis- 
fied him. The oatmeal was half boiled, the 
chops were burned, the rolls cold, the coffee 
muddy. He kept the footman on a trot between 
the breakfast parlor and the kitchen most of the 
time, and it gratified him to see the young man 
in a state of tears and trembling. For he was 
angry at the silent dignity of Mrs. Brathous 
and Katherine. He felt that his complaints 
ought to have been indorsed by them. Their 
non-interference was a tacit disapproval of his 
conduct. 

After the disagreeable meal was over, the 
ladies were leaving the room together. He re- 
called them in what he intended to be a very 
authoritative manner ; but Mrs. Brathous de- 
tected in it that tone of bluster which is always 
the sign of cowardly timidity, and she asked 
promptly : 

“ What do you want with us, Alexander?” 

“ I have something very important to say to 


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The Flower of Gala Water . 1 29 


Katherine. Come here, miss. You will be 
married on the 29th of September. It is Jamie’s 
birthday, and he may as well make it his mar- 
riage-day.” 

“ You are going beyond bounds on every side, 
laird,” answered Mrs. Brathous for her daugh- 
ter. “ It is the right of the bride to choose her 
wedding-day, and her, husband also. And I 
doubt if you have word or warrant from Jamie 
for what you say. You may be Laird of Levens- 
hope, but Katherine is beyond your ordering.” 

“ It is high time that I took matters in hand. 
Girls that are as good as married playing shut- 
tlecock with two men’s hearts ! It is not re- 
spectable. I am not able to bear it. I did not 
sleep well last night, and to lose my sleep is as 
much as my life is worth. I am so nervous this 
morning it is really pitiful. I will not suffer in 
this way for any girl’s vanity. Flirt, flirt, flirt- 
ing, morning, noon and night !” 

“ Alexander, take heed what you say. You 
are slandering my daughter.” 


130 The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ I say Katherine is a flirt ! She is all the 
same as Jamie’s wife, yet I saw her making eyes 
at that Englishman and whispering in corners 
with him. I saw her !” 

“ It is not the truth.” 

“ Is she not betrothed to James Wintoun ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Helen Brathous !” 

“ I say * No,’ not unless she desires the mar- 
riage. A promise made at twelve years of age 
could hardly be binding on a woman of nine- 
teen, even if it had been an unconditional 
promise. Katherine nor I ever regarded it as 
anything but provisional — if she liked, if Win- 
toun liked, if we were both of the same mind.” 

“ Well, women beat all ! I will have no more 
to say to either of you. But the wedding will 
take place. So you may make ready for it or 
not, just as it pleases you. It is no longer a 
question of women’s likes or dislikes. I will 
take the law to my side. Just understand that, 
will you? For behind Alexander Brathous 


The Flower of Gala Water. 13 1 

stands the lord chancellor and the court, and if 
I cannot manage my lady Katherine I will even 
make her a ward of chancery and put Mr. Mow- 
bray — or whatever the fellow’s name is — under 
bonds for good behaviour. Now you may go 
youi ways — both of you — for I am just worn out 
with the care and worry of another man’s daugh- 
ter. I lost my good sleep all night, and I have 
a palpitation of the heart even now, that is like 
enough to get worse.” 

“ I suppose Katherine has some rights, Alex- 
ander ?” 

“ Rights ! No ! She has privileges, and they 
are all and everything that a good girl wants 
She has the privilege of as fine a home as there 
is in Tweedside. She has the privilege of a 
good mother and of a guardian wise and faith- 
ful beyond the common ; she has the privilege 
of a marriage far better than she merits, for as 
a lot of fools have called her the Flower of Gala 
Water she has the very great privilege of own- 
ing many a bonnie brae and meadow by Gala 


132 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


Water, and of blooming her life away in them. 
And as sure as my name is Alexander Brathous, 
I will let no English body transplant the Flower 
of Gala Water. The man that tries it will never 
cross the border hame again !” 

“ That is all gasconading and braggadocio ! 
You swagger like Pistol, and always eat the leek 
at the end of it.” 

“ Madam ! Madam ! I will — ” 

“ You do. You know you do. Come, Kath- 
erine and though the laird stood up and 
struck the table with his closed hand, and even 
mildly swore a little, the ladies went calmly out 
of his presence, leaving him without a single 
promise, and with a very positive sense of 
defeat. 

But the opportunity to explain and defend 
himself was an absolute necessity of his nature, 
and he was sorry now that he had written to 
the minister. It was above all things desirable 
that he should have his good word and support. 

“ However,” he mentally concluded, “ I will 


I he Flower of Gala Water. 


133 


just ride over to the manse. I will go on my 
Barbary mare, with my man in the Levens liv- 
ery behind me. Telfair will give in a bit to 
that, and when I — the Laird of Levens-hope — 
say a few words with a ring of apology in them, 
the minister will be glad enough to put the of- 
fense away with a whaff of the hand or a polite 
word or the like of that. For it is true as Gos- 
pel that the minister is just a nobody without 
the laird behind him.” 

He put on his tightest-fitting riding-coat and 
his Dent saddle-gloves, called his Barbary mare 
and his man Archibald, and rode proudly down 
the main avenue. Before he reached the big 
gates he met the minister’s man with the min- 
ister’s letter. It was blow the second, and rather 
harder to meet than his wife’s defiance. 

“ Such a like letter !” he muttered when he 
had read it through. “ The man writes to me 
as if I was a very sinner. ‘ The comely humiliy 
of a Presbyter ’ indeed ! A more prelatic spirit 
gould not be found in a High Episcopal. I am 


134 The Flower of Gala Water . 


just distracted with the insult. Levens-hope in 
his parish and spiritual jurisdiction ! Humph 
— m’f — m’f !” and snorting out his defiance of 
this truth, he turned his finely caparisoned ani- 
mal to Wintoun House. 

He found Jamie in precisely the mood he de- 
sired. The young man was feeling hurt and 
wronged, and his uncle’s sympathy was sweet 
and his promises comforting. 

“ It is all in your own hands, Jamie,” he said, 
“ the woman you love and the estate which it 
would break both our hearts to see rouped and 
sold.” 

“ I will do anything reasonable, uncle, but I 
do not like to give Katherine pain or annoyance 
of any kind.” 

“ Katherine does not know her own mind. 
She has no idea of what is good for her. No 
girl at her age has. Fathers and mothers and 
guardians have to watch them as if they had 
the death fever. At nineteen years of age the 
whole generations of women go demented about 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


135 


the man of their choice ; they always have and 
they always will. It is a kind of a crisis ; get 
them over it, and they take gratefully the sen- 
sible husband selected for them. You have been 
too kind with Katherine. Be more masterful. 
Make her take good fortune from your hands, and 
when she is married she will come to her senses 
and thank you. I had to take the mastery with 
her mother. I have to do so yet, Jamie. I had 
to do it this morning,” he added, with menda- 
cious self-complacency that did not impose upon 
his nephew. 

“ I was thinking of going to Switzerland for a 
few months. I have heard that climbing glaciers 
is a cure for love.” 

“ And leave the ground to your rival? I wish 
I could give you some of my spirit. On the 
contrary, be at Levens-hope early and late. 
Keep every privilege you have gained with a 
tight grip. Tell Katherine you want to be mar- 
ried in September. Speak of Paris and Rome 
and St. Petersburg and the North Pole, if it suits 


136 The Flower of Gala Water . 


her for a wedding trip. Send her rings and 
brooches of all kinds. Get the whole country' 
side talking of your marriage ; most women 
would rather die than have people say their 
wedding was broken off. Man, Jamie ! If you 
let that fellow, Mowbray, steal your wife, you 
may just as well give him your estate ; and if 
you let Wintoun slip, I am not likely to trust 
you with Levens-hope.” 

“ Do not threaten, uncle ; I need neither 
threats nor promises where Katherine is con- 
cerned. 

“ Then why are you whimpering here instead 
of being at Levens ? And if the ladies tell you 
I gave them the scolding they deserved this 
morning, I give you leave to talk as they talk. 
You may say I am a perfect Bluebeard if it will 
help you to win Katherine Janfarie. And mind, 
you are to fight for the wedding in September. 
Promise all things impossible, the moon and the 
stars, if she wants them. I did that way with 
her mother. I had to. And sometimes I wonder 


The Flower of Gala Water . 137 

at the courage I showed in those days. But I 
feel it now. I lost my sleep last night, and 
nothing touched my palate this morning, and 
my heart beats too fast, I am very sure, and all 
this trouble for that conceited, meddlesome 
Englishman ! If it was not sinful to swear, I 
have a mouthful of bad words waiting for him.” 

As the morning went on they visited the 
stock and walked into the fields, and looked at- 

f 

the grass now ready for the mowing, and at the 
growing wheat and barley. Then they had a 
good lunch, and the laird supplemented it by a 
long, comfortable sleep. He was in hopes that 
his absence would cause some uneasiness to his 
wife — that she might perhaps fear “ something 
had happened,” and send to Wintoun House to 
inquire after him. He awoke about three 
o’clock, and asked if she had done so, and Jamie 
answered, “ No,” with the utmost indifference. 
This want of interest rather troubled him, but 
there was no comfortable course open but that 
of returning home in the most ordinary manner. 


138 The Flower of Gala Water . 

He asked Jamie to go with him, and Jamie 
said he had been waiting to do so. The ride 
was a rather silent one. When all was said and 
done, Wintoun felt very like a puppet in his 
uncle’s hands ; and he resented the position. 
There had been moments that day when he had 
longed to tell the laird that he “ did not wonder 
Katherine had resolved to choose a lover whom 
he could not order or interfere with.” 

They found Mrs. Brathous and Jessy Telfair 
on a little lawn near the rose garden. It was 
furnished with sheltered seats and a table, and 
on fine afternoons Mrs. Brathous frequently had 
tea served there. She smiled at her husband, 
and made room for him on the rustic couch by 
removing her work-basket. He was not able to 
resist this charming advance, and seeing that 
Wintoun was talking to Jessy, he kissed the 
white hand that had prepared his place, and 
said : 

“ Oh, Helen ! How could you be so cross this 
morning ? I have had a most wretched day. 


The Flower of Gala Water . 139 


And you never cared to find out whether I was 
dead or alive.’’ 

“ I knew pretty well what you were doing, 
Alexander. How are Wintoun fields looking? 
And what kind of a lunch did you have ?” 

“ I had no appetite. When you are cross I 
never can eat a morsel. Where is Katherine ?” 

“ Somewhere in the garden. I dare say Jessy 
and Jamie have gone to look for her.” 

He let his eyes follow the couple a moment 
and saw that Jessy was talking very earnestly 
to her companion. She was, in fact, telling him 
that Mowbray was with Katherine in the Hazel 
Walk, and that they all looked to him to prevent 
any disagreeable scene between Mowbray and 
the laird. 

“ You do ask such hard things of me, Jessy,” 
he said, plaintively. “ Do you think I like to be 
civil to this man ?” 

“ I am sure you do not, Jamie ; but then we 
ask hard things of you, because we know you 
have a heart capable of them,” 


140 The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ He is handsome and captivating ; what 
chance have I against him ? I have nothing to 
put beside his personal advantages.” 

“ Oh, Jamie Wintoun ! You have a heart of 
gold ! You are the most unselfish soul that ever 
lived, and at the last Katherine must find out 
how captivating this noble nature makes you.” 

Before he could answer they saw the lovers 
standing under the green roof of the meeting 
hazel boughs. A blackbird was fluting above 
them, recapturing again and again his few de- 
liciously imploring notes. Mowbray, with lifted 
face, was trying to imitate them, his arm was 
around Katherine, her head was against his 
shoulder, and the bright sunshine sifting through 
the green trees fell all over her fair, brown hair 
and snow-white dress. 

“ Ter-a-tene ! Ter-a-tene ! Ter-a-tene !” he 
whistled soft and clear ; but Katherine said : 

“ You have not quite understood. I know 
what he says.” 

“ Then tell me, dearest !” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 141 

“ 1 learnt the secret from the shepherds, and 
the angels may have told them. For shepherds 
out on the hills all night do hear and see won- 
derful things. And they have known for hun- 
dreds of years what is the sweet entreaty the 
blackbird makes every night and morning.” 

“And now, will you tell me ?” 

“ Listen, then !” and in low, mellow thirds she 
chanted the blackbird’s mass. 

“ Magdalen at Michael’s gate 
Tirled at the pin, 

The blackbird sank on Joseph’s thorn, 

Let her in ! Let her in !” 

The tender little prayer with its mournful 
cadence blended with the pensive notes of the 
bird, and when it was finished Mowbray kissed 
the lovely mouth that had made it. 

“ I will go back, Jessy,” said Wintoun. “ I 
will wait by the raspberry bushes for you.” 

She understood and made no objections, and 
so lifting herself the old world rhyme, she went 
singing it toward Katherine. 

“ The laird is home,” she said, “ and he is 


142 The Flower of Gala Water. 


asking for you. And Jamie is by the raspberry 
bushes, and you two must come out of Paradise 
and be just common mortals again/' 

They came out with a sigh, though her kindly 
imperativeness took away some of the senti- 
mental regret. And then she so managed the 
situation as to place Katherine and Wintoun 
together, while she rather ostentatiously 
walked at Mowbray’s side. The laird saw them 
approaching, and his loose mouth puckered and 
his eyes sought some explanation from his 
wife. She was arranging the tea cups, and 
as her hands moved to and fro, she said, 
sweetly : 

“ Now, Alexander, you must not be less than 
a gentleman. Mr. Mowbray has come to bid 
you ‘good-by.’ You gave him welcome for his 
father’s sake ; do not spoil your kindness at the 
last hour.” 

He had no time to rebel against the charge. 
Mr. Mowbray’s perfect manner and courteous 
words asked for the same return, and with his 


The Flower of Gala Water . 143 


V 

v 

wife’s eyes upon him the laird did not feel equal 
to a dispute. 

Wintoun also treated his rival with a courtesy 
which, however cold, was at least irreproach- 
able. Evidently he was determined to give the 
laird no opportunity of lifting his quarrel, and 
Brathous could hardly quarrel on his own ac- 
count without making Katherine the cause ; and 
there were many considerations against such a 
step. So the laird said “ good afternoon, sir,” 
and determined to speak no more. But no one 
was long proof against Mowbray’s charming 
geniality, and he had almost lifted both his host 
and his rival to his own pleasant temper, when 
a servant brought into the cheerful group a tele- 
gram. It was for Mowbray, and had been sent 
to Galashiels, and from there to the minister’s, 
and so on to Levens-hope. 

He read it with a polite impassiveness, handed 
it to Mrs. Brathous, and said : 

“ The message hurries my departure — for the 
Mr. Abraham Hewett, who is dying, is, my 


144 The Flower of Gala Water . 


father’s oldest friend. I cannot neglect his re- 
quest, and must say ‘ farewell ’ at once.” 

He bowed to Wintoun, thanked the laird for 
his hospitality, and then turning to Mrs. Brath- 
ous gave one hand to her and one to Katherine. 
There was not a word uttered by Katherine. 
Mrs. Brathous spoke some hurried sentences 
that meant nothing at all, and at the same time 
answered his entreating eyes with a look that 
meant all he asked. His last glance was for 
Katherine, and he was turning rapidly away, 
when Jessy said : 

“ Will you not shake hands with me also, Mr. 
Mowbray ? I thought I was one of your favor- 
ites. Good-by ! Be sure and write to us. Father 
will want to know if you forget Gala Water.” 

She gave a meaning to this injunction which 
he understood and answered ; and then he was 
gone, and the tea had lost all flavor, and the 
laird was gruff and injured and had nothing to 
say ; and the girls stole off to Katherine’s room 
to talk about the lover and the telegram. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 145 


“ He did not look much troubled,” said Jessy. 
“ People do not, as a rule, worry about their 
fathers’ friends. You will get a letter to-mor- 
row. A love-letter ! Oh, Katherine, a love- 
letter !” 

The girls looked at each other with shining 
eyes, and then sighed for the very joy of antici- 
pation. They took a map and a railway guide 
and followed the line Mowbray would be likely 
to take ; and Katherine said over the names of 
the stations softly and musically. They were 
little stations on a crowded map, but they were 
clear and vivid to her eyes. She speculated as 
to the moment at which her lover would pass 
each of them. 

“ And he will reach Mowbray about sunrise, I 
should think, Jessy,” she said. 

He reached it in that still, chill hour before 
sunrise ; the village was asleep ; the sheep on 
the mountain slopes were asleep ; the silence 
and mystery of sleep brooded over everything, 
animate and inanimate, Mr, Hewett’s house 


146 The Flower of Gala Water . 


was on the outskirts of the place, a pretty stone 
dwelling in the midst of a flower-garden. Mow- 
bray opened the gate and, with swift steps, 

passed the flagged walk to the door. It stood 

* 

wide open. Mowbray knew Mr. Hewett’s room, 
and he went there. He found his friend sitting 
by the open window and evidently suffering. 

“I saw thee coming, Richard,” he said. 

“ I am sorry, Mr. Hewett ; I am very sorry, 
indeed.” 

“ Nay, nay, Richard ! I have had my hour, 
and done my work. I am ready to go as soon 
as I have a bit of a talk with thee. Take thy 
pencil and write down what I say. Why, man ! 
Never look so scared. There is nothing to hurt 
thee. I haven’t murder or theft or anything 
wicked to tell thee. ” 

“ I am not fearing for myself.” 

“ I know. I have heard tell. I can fancy a 
bit more. A bonny lass — a Janfarie beauty. 
There have been many of them. The Janfaries 
are a handsome lot of men and women. Well 


The Flower of Gala Water. 147 


it is because of her I speak. There must be no 
mistakes made — all must be open and honest — 
eh, Richard?” 

“ To be sure, Mr. Hewett. That is what I 
wish.” 

“ Then put down first that Squire Reginald 
Mowbray, deceased, was married at Edinburgh, 
at St. Giles Church, January 4, 1821. He was 
then just of age. He married Annot Fae, a 
beautiful gypsy girl, who bore him one son and 
then died. The boy lived, and was called 
Thomas.” 

“ Is he still alive ?” 

“ I think it is very likely.” 

“ Then he is my half-brother, and my father’s 
heir?” 

“ Not exactly. He proved to be a very hand- 
some and lovable lad ; but unsayable and unbid- 
dable beyond everything. He ran away from 
all schools. He was sent to sea and deserted 
his ship. Customs and fashions he despised and 
disobeyed. In fact, he was a gypsy, and not an 


148 The Flower of Gala Water. 


English gentleman. When he was eighteen he 
was allowed to travel wherever his fancy led 
him. Your father hoped to weary out his 
roving temper ; on the contrary, it confirmed it. 
He came back with the wild life of California 
and Colorado and Texas in the middle of his 
heart. There was no life worth living but that 
of an Indian or a cowbow. He talked to the 
squire until even he sometimes felt as if he must 
sell Mowbray and go with his boy to the prairies. 
But the wish was only in the squire’s imagina- 
tion ; and it was his son’s blood. I ’ll say this — 
the lad could not help it. It was his nature. 
And at last his father understood that he could 
no more make an English squire out of Thomas 
Mowbray then he could make a plow-horse out 
of a red deer. They did not quarrel or angrify 
about it. They talked the case sensibly over in 
my presence, and the young man was glad to 
take five thousand pounds as his portion and go 
off with it to the West to make his own life and 
be his own master.” 


The Flower of Gala Water . 149 


A painful silence followed this story. The 
lawyer breathed with difficulty, and had been 
obliged to rest frequently during its recital. 
Richard sat with a troubled face. He needed 
no one to point out to him the unfortunate in- 
fluence this position would have on his relations 
with Katherine. The laird would very justly 
refuse to sanction an alliance while his social 
standing was so undetermined. He looked 
anxiously into the lawyer’s face, and asked : 

“ Was not this agreement formally authenti- 
cated?” 

“Certainly. I put it down myself in black 
and white, and your brother signed it.” 

“ That is, he relinquished all claims on Mow- 
bray for five thousand pounds ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Then my title to Mowbray is clear enough.” 

“Your father thought so until just before his 
death, when I was going through his papers 
with him. Then the real condition of the agree- 
ment struck him : Thomas Mowbray was not of 


150 The Flower of Gala Water . 


age when he signed it. A minor could not 
alienate his rights. The transaction had been 
concluded three days too soon.” 

“ And you did not know this ?” 

“ Certainly I did not. Whether your father 
had mistaken the date of his son’s birth or 
whether he overlooked the condition altogether 
I do not know. I confessed that it never oc- 
curred to me to question the majority of Thomas 
Mowbray, for travel had given him a very ma- 
ture appearance.” 

“ Had you not known him all his life ?” 

“ By no means. Until your birth, Squire 
Mowbray scarcely ever lived at Mowbray., 
His son Thomas was never here, to my knowl- 
edge, but on the one occasion when he freely 
resigned his right in the property for five thou- 
sand pounds. I doubt if the villagers knew of 
his existence. The action was in accord with 
his own earnest desire, and there was nothing 
but affection in your father’s willingness to ac- 
cede to it. He went with his son to Liverpool 


The Flower of Gala Water. 15 1 

and watched him sail away forever from his 
sight. And he took on a deal about his going — 
he did that ! Then he met your mother, and 
was comforted by her love and by your birth.” 

“ Did not Thomas Mowbray write to father 
from America ?” 

“ At first he did. Letters came at intervals 
from California, Arkansas, Mexico and Texas, 
and soon after your mother’s death — when you 
were ten years old — he sent an announcement 
of his marriage. This letter was dated La Guada- 
lupe, and was mailed from San Antonio. The 
squire wrote him a long reply and sent him a 
picture of your mother and yourself. Since that 
time there has never been another word from 
him.” 

“ And Thomas Mowbray might come back 
and lawfully claim an elder brother’s right?” 

“ That is the case in its absolute possibility. 
But I do not believe Thomas Mowbray would 
do such a thing. Your father had the greatest 
confidence in his honor. He was opposed to my 


152 The Flower of Gala Water . 


making any formal memorandum of the agree- 
ment. He said it looked like a doubt of his son’s 
word. When Thomas signed the paper, he got 
up and went to the window and looked at noth- 
ing rather than see him do it. He always thought 
for other people’s feelings that way, did your 
father.” 

“ And, after all, the agreement is valueless ?” 

“ Quite so.” 

“ What would you advise me to do ?” 

“ You might go on as your father did.” 

“ No — he had a surety — or, at least, he thought 
he had one. I know I have none. Besides, I 
cannot marry Miss Janfarie in a character which 
may not be mine.” 

“ Is Miss Janfarie marrying the Squire of 
Mowbray or is she marrying Richard Mow- 
bray ?” 

“ That is a question by itself. She supposes 
I am the owner of Mowbray. Her guardian, 
even in that position, objects to me. To ask for 
her hand in any lower one is to subject myself 


The Flower of Gala Water . I S3 


to the rudeness of a very vulgar and ill-natured 
man/’ 

“ What will you do, then ?” 

“ I must see my brother. Though he wished 
to let his own right slip, he may now have sons 
and daughters, whose rights he will feel bound 
to consider. I must see him, though I go to 
Texas to do so. Have you any more certain 
address ?” 

“ La Guadalupe and San Antonio are enough, 
I should think. I know none other.” 

“ Texas is a large State.” 

“ From what I saw of Thomas Mowbray, I 
should say it would take a very large State, in- 
deed, to lose him in it.” * 

“ Then I shall find him if he is alive. I must 
find him.” 

“ Yes. I am much of your mind. Rut go at 
once, and don’t dilly-dally about it.” 

“ I will stay with you as long as you need me.” 

“ I want no one with me. I have lived alone. 
I will die alone. When God says, ‘Abraham 


154 The Flower of Gala Water . 


Hewett, come !’ I wish to be alone with God. 
My dear lad, at the last hour no human creature 
can keep you company. ‘ There is none then 
like unto Him !’* I have told thee all. The 
case is in thy own hands now. Do what is right 
with it/’ 

“ Can you give me any further advice in the 
matter ?” 

“ I should say trust thy brother. I think thou 
may do so. I do, indeed ! He had his father’s 
great heart. His wild nature was in his blood, 
and came through his mother — ‘ a very noble 
creature,’ I heard thy father call her. Yes, 
Richard, I heard him whisper her name on his 
deathbed. She was Squire Reginald’s first love. 
And there is a deal of something everlasting in 
first love. You are a bit put about, I see ?” 

“Yes, I am, Mr. Hewett. It is news I never 
expected.” 

“ I know that. But it will turn middling well, 


Jeremiah, x: 6. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


] 55 


I dare say. It is near strike of day, Richard. I 
would get a-going if I was thee.” 

“ I will start for America at once, I think. 
Farewell, sir.” 

“ Farewell, Richard Mowbray. It will be 
many a long day ere we two meet again.” 

“ After all, I ought to stay with you, sir.” 

“ I have told thee no. Once for all, I mean 
no.” 

“ Farewell, then !” 

“ Fare thee well heartily ! Be good and do 
good, and God be with thee evermore !” 




CHAPTER V. 

GUADALUPE AND GALA WATER. 


All his words bristled with passionate threats. — Phcedus. 

Some men can more easily hold fire in their mouths than 
keep a secret. Whatever they hear gets abroad, and excites 
their world with sudden reports . — Petronius Arbiter. 

Mowbray left his friend’s death-room in a 
mood of mingled sorrow and stress of events. 
A great and sudden cloud had come over his 
hopes, and all the lover in him was angry at the 
false position which his father’s blind trustful- 
ness or carelessness had induced. He drove 
very rapidly to his home, and the beautiful park 
and stately building looked more desirable than 

[156] 



The Flower of Gala Water. 


i5 7 


they had ever done before. Only yesterday his 
sole thought with regard to Mowbray had been 
how best to adorn and furnish it for his bride. 
All through his midnight journey he had been 
planning new decorations ; and now he could 
not even feel as if it was certainly his home. 
This unseen, unknown brother might yet covet 
and take possession of it. 

During the next two hours he fought a great 
battle with himself. For a little while the 
meaner man within him pleaded for his own 
way. He said : “ What your father did, you 
may surely continue. To attempt to alter what 
he arranged is tantamount to accusing him. 
Your brother’s right must have lapsed ; he has 
once been fully paid for it, and as for yourself, 
you have always been your father’s acknowl- 
edged heir. No one could blame you for keep- 
ing what has been so long given to you.” Amid 
such pleadings it was some time before the 
braver and nobler soul contending for the right 
gould obtain a hearing, 


158 The Flower of Gala Water. 


At last, however, Mowbray rose like a man 
who has made a good decision. 

“ I will go and see Katherine,” he said. “ I 
will tell her everything ; if she will wait until I 
have found my brother and we have settled per- 
manently the succession of Mowbray, I shall be 
all the happier for this proof of her love. But, 
whether or no, I must see Thomas Mowbray ; I 
must find out whether I be really Squire Mow- 
bray, or only Richard Mowbray, the squire’s 
brother.” 

He spent the day in giving instructions to his 
steward ; in providing himself with funds for 
his proposed search ; in securing an early pas- 
sage, and in ordering his house for a few 
months’ absence. There were papers to destroy 
and papers to write, for he believed it to be 
proper to leave behind him the story of his 
father’s first marriage and the probable resi- 
dence of the heirs from it, in case of any acci- 
dent to himself. 

When all duties were performed he left at 


The Flower of Gala Water. 159 


once for Galashiels ; but it was after midnight 
when he arrived. He had thought of nothing 
but Katherine on his journey, yet he could make 
no definite plan for an interview with her. 
Finally he resolved to go to Doctor Telfair. It 
might be that he could make a confidant of him. 
He was beginning to feel the weight of his dis- 
appointment and the uncertainty of his position 
very much. He craved sympathy ; he wanted 
some person to say to him: “You are doing 
right.” 

It was Friday morning, and the doctor was 
busy on his Sunday sermon, but he met Mow- 
bray with unaffected pleasure, and listened with 
great interest to the young man’s story. 

“ I knew of the gypsy, Annot,” he said, “ but 
I never heard of the marriage nor yet of the 
child. Squire Reginald must have made her 
his wife immediately after entering the classes 
at Edinburgh ; for during his last year in col- 
lege he was deeply in love with a woman whom 
I also loved— the daughter of one of our pro- 


160 The Flower of Gala Water . 


fessors. However, sir, your course is quite 
clear. You cannot ask the Laird of Levens- 
hope for the hand of his ward, Miss Janfarie, 
until your right in Mowbray is absolute and un- 
doubted. When do you leave for America?” 

“ To-morrow afternoon, if I can speak with 
Miss Janfarie in time to catch the steamer. I 
expected to see Miss Telfair. I have been dis- 
appointed.” 

“ My daughter is at Levens-hope. She will 
return about eleven o’clock. Katherine will be 
sure to convey her part of the way home. Why 
not go and meet them ?” 

“ I will, sir.” 

“You had better leave your horse here and 
take the upper road.” 

He nodded pleasantly to the suggestions, and 
followed both. The upper road was very pri- 
vate ; he would not be likely to meet any one 
on it, unless it was a shepherd counting his 
flock or a little child going a message for its 
mammy. And from its elevation he could see 


The Flower of Gala Water. 1 6 1 

the girls leave Levens hope, and so arrange 
matters as to descend to their level at the most 
favorable point. 

All happened as well as he could have desired. 
Just before reaching the stile by which Leavens- 
wood was entered the girls began to linger ; 
then they stood still, and it was evident Kath- 
erine was hesitating about her return, and 
equally evident that Jessy was urging her to go 
back, for the midday sun was very hot, and 
there was no shade after the wood was passed, 
the road then being a bare path over the moun- 
tain breast. 

He foresaw that Jessy would gain her way, 
and that he might meet Katherine at the stile 
leading into the wood. So he hurried through 
the timber and across the patches of moss-ber- 
ries, and when he reached the stone wall which 
enclosed the plantation, he saw Katherine rest- 
ing beneath it. She sat upon the grass, a large 
tree overshadowed her, and she was almost up 
to the chin in purple foxglove bells. 


1 62 The Flower of Gala Water . 


He called her, and she stood up, eager, all 
attent, all radiant with smiles. The next mo- 
ment his arm was around her and his face 
against her face, and they were laughing softly 
together. 

“ I knew you were coming/' she whispered. 
“ I felt sure you were near me." 

For a few moments their rapture had the per- 
fection of all that is spontaneous. In them 
Mowbray forgot his anxiety and Katherine for- 
got her fears and her position. Then consider- 
ation came and forced them to realize that they 
were yet bound by mortal conditions. 

“ You must come with me to the Saint’s Well, 
my sweet Katherine," said Mowbray. “ I have 
something important to tell you, and there it is 
not likely we shall be disturbed." 

So, still full of childlike happiness, they went 
hand in hand over the stile, and through the 
wood to the glen where the well dripped into 
its fern-bordered basin. Here there was a nat- 
ural seat formed by the rocks and carpeted with 


The Flower of Gala Water. 163 


the fragrant pine needles ; and there they sat 
down. 

“ I have come to tell you a strange story, 
Katherine ; one that may, perhaps, part us for- 
ever.” 

She smiled a saucy negative, and moved 
closer to him. 

“ Nothing but death can part us,” she an- 
swered, “ and death has no ‘ forever ’ for true 
love. Let me hear this story.” 

He told her all ; and as he proceeded he for- 
got to be very serious or anxious, for her face 
grew brighter and brighter, and the pretty 
wrinkles she made were rather marks of depre- 
cation than of worry or annoyance. It was not 
nearly so hard to tell her as he had thought it 
would be. She did not interrupt or exclaim, nor 
even try to give an air of romantic misery to the 
complication. Her sympathy and approval were 
shown in ways quite as intelligible and far more 
delightful. When he began his story he felt it 
incumbent to wear an air of uncertainty and 


164 The Flower of Gala Water . 


distance — to presume nothing on the past or to 
take no advantage from it. He had withdrawn 
a little from her side, with his face slightly 
dropped toward his folded hands. 

But as he proceeded, Katherine went close to 
him ; she took one and then both his hands in 
hers ; she laid her head against his shoulder, 
and as he finished his confession she kissed him. 

“ You are doing quite right,” she said. “ And, 
pray, what does it matter whether you are Squire 
Mowbray or not? You are Richard Mowbray ; 
that is enough for me.” 

“ I shall be comparatively a poor man if my 
brother asserts his claim.” 

“ We have enough and to spare, Richard. We 
are rich. Is it any matter which of us has the 
money ? If I were the minister’s daughter, with- 
out a penny of tocher, I am sure yofi would 
gladly marry me !” 

“ God knows I would, most gladly.” 

“ Do you think, then, that I am less unselfish ?” 
“Your guardian—” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 165 


“ Will make trouble under any circumstances. 
He says that if I do not marry Mr. Wintoun by 
the end of September, he will send me to school 
or make me a chancery ward, or do some other 
improbable or disagreeable thing. I am not 
afraid of him ; yet I must affect to acquiesce, or 
else face a sea of troubles and annoyances. Can 
you be back before that date?” 

“ If I am alive, I will be back.” 

“ I shall then be within sixteen months of my 
emancipation. Is sixteen months too long a 
bridal trip in countries where he cannot follow 
and interfere with us?” 

“ My love ! My love ! How happy you make 
me !” 

“ You understand, then ? I will be your wife 
when you return. I do not care whether you 
are squire or master. I do not care for a splen- 
did wedding. Jessy and I and you and the min- 
ister are enough. Mamma will give us her 
consent and her blessing, and the blessing or 
banning of Mr, Brathous will make no difference, 


1 66 The Flower of Gala Water. 


Do your part, dear Richard, do it honorably, 
as you wish to do it, and whether it leaves you 
rich or poor, you will be just as welcome to me.” 

“ You dear, brave girl ! I feared you would — ” 

“ No, Richard, you did not fear I would fail 
you in the least. You know better. As for 
Mowbray, if it is yours, I shall be glad for your 
sake. If it is not, we will buy a lovely site and 
build up a far finer home. Be true to me, 
darling; that is all I ask.” 

They lingered until mid-afternoon in the 
lonely wood, saying over and over the same 
fond words ; giving again and again the same 
strong assurances. But at last Mowbray knew 
that they must part. There were no tears and 
no lamentations ; Katherine was cheerful to the 
last moment, and she sent him away with a 
heart tuned to sweetest accord with her own. 
And all things now seemed possible and all 
things endurable, for he felt sure that whatever he 
might lose, Katherine was his own forever. She 
had heard his story without one doubt; she had 


The Flower of Gala Water. 167 


faced his poverty with her wealth, and where 
his humility had feared to ask for anything she 
had planned happiness for both. 

The journey across the Atlantic was a summer 
sail, a mere pleasure trip on the water. He had 
only one annoyance, the sense that time was 
flying fast and he had so far to go and so 
much to do. Yet the spirit Katherine had in- 
spired enabled him to enjoy the marvels of the 
new, great world which he saw and felt and 
which encompassed him round about. His in- 
sular conceptions of what was vast received a 
wondrous enlargement ; he felt that Europe 
had only shown him the world in miniature, but 
that in America he had the archetype of all his 
dreams of greatness. 

“ I am not astonished Thomas Mowbray gave 
up his rights in the Old World for his franchise 
in the new one,” he thought ; and the farther 
he travelled the more confident he became of 
his own position as Squire of Mowbray. 

All the way down the Mississippi Valley his 


1 68 The Flower of Gala Water. 


ideas expanded, his mind enlarged ; he searched 
his memory continually for new words to ex- 
press his emotions. But when he breathed at 
last the wondrous air of Western Texas, and 
tasted the freedom of its life, he had not a doubt 
or fear left. For his wish had become an indif- 
ference. 

“ If Thomas does want Mowbray,” he thought, 
“ he can have the place and all that belongs to 
it. Katherine and Texas would be joy enough 
for one mortal. We will make our bridal trip 
here and choose some noble location, with wide 
horizons and lofty skies, and so build in para- 
dise. Oh, how the Flower of Gala Water would 
bloom on the borders of these honeysuckled 
creeks, pontooned over with lilies !” 

And the idea so enamored him that he almost 
hoped his brother would have a hankering for 
the gray old house of Mowbray, with its homely 
air of Northern lands — would remember fondly 
the little river flashing past it in swirls of broken 
water full of good bull trout ; and the rounded 


The Flower of Gala Water . 169 


hills on which the plaided shepherds watched 
patiently their flocks of wandering sheep. 

In San Antonio he found his first difficulty. 
No one knew a Mr. Thomas Mowbray, and peo- 
ple smiled when they were asked to remember 
some one whose latest record there dated back 
seventeen years. 

“ Our population drifts a good deal,” said the 
hotel-keeper, “ but I would trust to the Guada- 
lupe Valley, for if he once lived there, I reckon 
you couldn’t get him to live long anywhere 
else.” 

So Mowbray rode into the rich upper valley 
of the sparkling Guadalupe. He could not 
avoid the feeling that he was again in Greece. 
The sky was the same, the climate was the 
same, and when he passed Kerrville he was sure 
it ought to have been called Athens. At four 
different farms he called and asked after his 
brother. But the name of Mowbray seemed 
quite unfamiliar. One owner was a Spanish 
gentleman, and he could not well say the word 


170 The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ Mowbray another was a German, who gave 
it an unpronounceable accent. A Scotchman at 
the third farm said he “ didna ken the man.” 
An American at the fourth, “ reckoned Senor 
Tomaso at the next farm might remember, as 
he was the oldest settler in the valley.” 

So Mowbray rode forward to the house pointed 
out to him. In the clear atmosphere it looked 
close at hand, but it was really a distance of six 
miles. 

“ I ’d ask you to stay till morning, stranger,” 
said his director, “ but you ’ll get better quarters 
at the senor’s. He is always ready for company, 
and set up beyond everything with a stranger.” 

Just before sunset Mowbray reached the 
senor’s house. It was a very handsome place, 
with deep latticed galleries and a tangle of 
sweet herbs and shrubs all around it. A negro 
boy took his horse and showed him a little path 
that led to the principal entrance. As he fol- 
lowed it he heard the tinkle of a guitar and the 
feet and voices of children playing on the 


The Flower of Gala Water. 171 


piazza. He did not need to announce his ap- 
proach ; a stout, pleasant-faced lady, evidently 
Spanish, met him with a welcome. She gave 
him a seat and brought him a cup of chocolate, 
and told him the senor would be home at sun- 
set. She asked him no questions, for she was 
sure he had come from San Antonio to buy 
wool. But she talked of the fashions and the 
city, and said : 

“ I have a desire for the great city, for, to be 
sure, my good father lives there yet ; a man of 
most noble and illustrious family ; and my good 
mother, whom I forget not, though, as you know, 
it is the man and the woman, and the woman is 
nobody.” 

“ San Antonio is, indeed, a most romantic 
city,” said Mowbray. 

“ Ah, yes ! He is loved of God who lives 
there. The senor he loves not the city ; but as 
for me, I am always happy to be there. I say 
so because it is the truth. Here then comes the 
senor, and in a good hour, I hope.” 


\J2 The Flower of Gala Water. 


Mowbray rose and looked at the advancing' 
man. Nothing in this home indicated any cer- 
tainty of information, and yet he felt as if he 
was on the verge of the information he wanted. 
The senor was coming through the shrubbery, 
and it was nearly dark, but he could see a tall, 
stout figure that walked leisurely and lifted his 
head expectantly as he began to mount the 
piazza steps. Then two little children rushed 
forward to meet him, and he seemed satisfied. 
He delayed a moment to kiss them, and came 
into the house holding a hand of each. 

The candles were lit as he entered the parlor, 
and his hat had been left in the hall. Richard 
looked at him, and without a moment’s hesita- 
tion put out his hand and said : 

“ Brother ! Brother Thomas !” 

“ Why, God bless my soul, this is little Dick ! 
Dick ! Dick ! If an angel from heaven had 
called I could not be more surprised and de- 
lighted. Dolores ! Dolores, come here ! This 
is my brother. ‘ You never heard of him ?’ I 


The Flozver of Gala Water. 173 


know you did not. But it is Dick. I am sure 
it is. Why, you are the very picture of our 
father, Dick !” 

Nature had instantly spoken for each. Richard 
felt a strong drawing toward this brother, who 
looked at him in such a fatherly way ; and 
Thomas was not ashamed to take the handsome 
youth to his breast and kiss him. 

“ I am old enough to be your father, Dick, 
and I have never been able to think of you ex- 
cept as the pretty boy whose picture father sent 
me. He sent your mother’s, also.” 

“ She is dead long ago. Father died last 
Christmas.” 

“ God give them peace forever. And you 
have thought of me and come all this way to see 
your prodigal brother ? Why, Dick, it is the 
best news I could ever have.” 

Then he called together all his family, and 
with marked pride introduced his eldest daugh- 
ter, Jesuita. It was her guitar Mowbray had 
heard, but the sight of a stranger had sent her 


174 77 /^ Flower of Gala Waler. 


away until she understood herself to be the 
niece of the splendid youth who dared to kiss 
her cheek with such very English presump- 
tion. 

No lovelier type of a mixed race could have 
been found in all the South than Jesuita Mow- 
bray. Her uncle watched her with a delighted 
curiosity. She was so indolently graceful that 
her movements had a rhythm like music. 
Never before had he seen a complexion so like a 
lily-leaf blushing to dazzling carmine — such large, 
slumbrous dark eyes — such purple black hair — 
such full red lips — such small, dimpled hands — 
such languors and such coquetries ! A woman 
more completely the antipodes of the bright, 
fresh, alert Katherine it would be impossible to 
imagine. The one was like a tropical jasmine, 
heavy with scent, white with shade, loving the 
moonlight and the passionate songs of the 
mocking birds. The other was like the blue- 
bells of the Northern mountains ; elegant, 
mobile, responsive to every breath of the fresh 


The Flower of Gala Water . 175 


winds ; swinging gently to the song of the lark 
and linnet in the morning light. 

“ Jesuitaisa beauty,” said her father, proudly. 
“ Her mother was a beauty — she is still one to 
me. I took a wife from a strange race. My 
mother was an alien also.” 

“Yes, but our father loved her. He called to 
her on his death-bed.” 

“ I am glad to hear that. Dick, why did you 
come here ? To see me only ? Was it brotherly 
love that brought you ?” 

“ No.” The little word came painfully, and 
Thomas Mowbray looked troubled for a moment. 
But it was only a moment’s shadow. 

“ Never mind, my boy,” he said. “ I have a 
way of expecting too much. After we have 
eaten supper we will empty our hearts to each 
other. Are you in trouble, Dick?” he asked, 
suddenly. “ Have you done something ? Do 
you want to keep out af the way ?” 

“No, no, Thomas. It is only a matter of 
money — and a dear girl whom I love.” 


176 The Flower of Gala Water, 


“ Then it is all right yet Thomas Mowbray 
fell frequently into silences which he suddenly 
broke with a forced laugh or joke ; and as soon 
as supper was over and the ladies and children 
had gone to their apartments, he took his brother 
to an upper gallery apart from the other gal- 
leries, and only approached through a room 
which he locked behind them. 

There was a glorious full moon, and the lovely 
land lay bathed in its light. Far off the 
mocking birds were singing in the woody 
belt that followed the river, and from the 
cabins there came the echoes of a banjo or a 
mandolin. 

“ Sit down, Dick,” he said, pointing to a rude 
but comfortable chair ; and then he brought 
another from a shady corner and placed himself 
close to his brother. “ Smoke, Dick ?” he asked, 
and Dick nodded and took out his cigar case. 
Thomas lit a pipe and put his feet into a com- 
fortable position. “ Now, my boy, we can talk. 
What brought you to see me ? Show me Truth 


The Flower of Gala Water. 177 


and I don’t mind how ugly she is. I will give 
her a fair hearing.” 

“ I have told you that our father is dead. I 
am supposed now to be Squire Mowbray. I am 
not. You are the squire.” 

Thomas puffed his pipe a little quicker, and said: 

“ Well ? Go on. Who told you so ?” 

“ Lawyer Hewett.” 

“ If any stranger knows anything about it, he 
does.” 

“ Yes, but I did not know until last month, 
Thomas. Indeed, I did not know of your exist- 
ence until then. So I am not to blame if I 
usurped your right.” 

“ I sold my right. Father bought my birth- 
right. I was a son of Ishmael ; he could not 
make an English gentleman of me.” 

“ But the sale was not legal. Hewett told me 
it was made while you were a minor. It amounts 
to nothing.” 

“ God in heaven ! It amounts to all I signed 


it for.” 


178 The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ Do not be angry, Thomas. The question is 
to come before a man who knows nothing of 
you, and who hates me.” 

Then Mowbray told his brother about Kath- 
erine Janfarie and her guardian, and Thomas 
grasped the situation at once. 

“ I understand,” he answered. “ Dick, I was 
at Mowbray last May. You were in Scotland at 
the time. Some one — I suppose it was Hewett 
— sent me the newspaper which contained a 
notice of my father’s death, and I just took a 
run over to see the old place. When I got there 
I did not feel as if I belonged to it at all. The 
only spot of land that claimed me was my 
father’s grave. I stayed at the inn in Mowbray 
village for three days and no one knew me — not 
even old Hewett.” 

“ Yet the place is legally yours, Thomas.” 

“ I have sworn it is not. I may have a right 
to a place in the Mowbray vault. I have no 
other right. The place is yours, Dick ; and I 
will go with you to San Antonio and make it 


The Flower of Gala Water. 179 


yours so sure and fast that even that old Laird 
of Levens-hope shall not be able to pick a flaw 
in your right or in your children’s succession.” 

“ Are there lawyers in San Antonio clever 
enough for this business ?” 

“ Where land is concerned, a San Antonio 
lawyer will fix matters so certainly that it will 
take an English Parliament to unfix them. Does 
this promise make you easy, Dick ?” 

“ Quite, Thomas ; and now that I have seen 
you face to face I could trust your word as well 
as an act of parliament ; but you have children, 
and I may have, and what man can tell the 
things that may be done when he is in his 
grave ?” 

“ Dick, I have known for many years just how 
the succession stood. If poverty had followed 
me I would have gone to my mother’s people 
and been quite content with a donkey and a 
brazier and as much solder as a tinker needs. 
Bat I would never have claimed a crust from 
Mowbray. I am, on the contrary, a rich man. 


i So The Flower of Gala Water. 


Look north and south, east and west, and the 
land is mine farther than you can see. This 
divine sky, this heavenly climate, this life of 
individual freedom and national liberty are 
mine ! I built this fair, wide-spreading house, 
and no one but myself and my wife and children 
have lived in it. Its rooms have no sad mem- 
ories — no writings on the wall against us. 
Death is not forespoken for us, nor evil fate by 
wraiths lingering for their revenge. I was op- 
pressed by the spiritual influence of the Mow- 
brays in their ancient home. I could not live in 
it. I do not belong to the family. Neither does 
England please me now. The rains and fogs 
and wailing winds made me wretched. I was 
hungry for sunshine that had life and glory in 
it. My boy, I am sorry for you. I wish you had 
an inheritance in Texas — virgin fields and an 
unhaunted house. But every man must dree 
his destiny.” 

“ I can be happy anywhere with Katherine.” 

“ That is the right spirit. To-morrow we will 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


Iol 


go into San Antonio, and I will quit myself and 
my children fcrever of the Mowbray place. It 
is not ours. We have no natural right in it. 
Come closer, brother, for I must not lose you 
again. We had the same good father. Are you 
happy now, Dick ?” 

“Very happy. To-morrow I will begin to go 
back to Katherine. But, Thomas, I will bring 
her here to see you. We will turn our faces to 
the Guadalupe as soon as we are married. I think 
Alexander Brathous will not follow us to Texas.” 

“ Three men kept this secret, Dick, for thirty 
years. I wonder how long three women could 
have kept it.” 

“ Three women, I think, know it now. I told 
Katherine, and asked her to tell her mother, and 
I am sure she would also tell her friend, Jessy 
Telfair. There is no reason why our relation- 
ship should not be acknowledged. For my part, 
I wish your honor and unselfishness to be widely 
made public. I am proud of such an elder 
brother.” 


1 8s The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ These are fine words, and I like to hear them 
from you, Dick. And to have found you just 
such as you are is better than to find a fortune. 
I am proud of you. Not every young fellow 
would have travelled nearly five thousand miles 
to be sure he was right.” 

“To-morrow, then, I may begin to go home. 
You know ‘ why ’ without apologies.” 

“ To-morrow, by sun-up, we will turn to the 
east. We may be delayed some days in San 
Antonio. The man I want may not be there, or 
he may be sick or busy, or not in the mood for 
business. But we must do the thing right, and 
then it will not be to do again. Do you fear 
what three women may do or say in your ab- 
sence ?” 

“ No. None of the three will say a word 
more than truth. I do not fear the truth.” 

But it was not necessary for any of the three 
women to speak a word to set trouble brewing. 
The telegram from a dying lawyer, and Mow- 
bray’s hurried response to it inflamed the small. 


The Flower of Gala Water . 183 


suspicious mind of Brathous. He told himself 
all night that “ something was wrong.” Infinitely 
curious and inquisitive after everything which 
passed in every chimney-corner on his estate, 
he could not endure such a mystery to be pro- 
pounded in his very presence, and he not know 
the meaning thereof. 

The next morning he went to see his own 
lawyer, Simon Langton, about it. Langton was 
a cunning, unscrupulous man, held by all between 
contempt and fear ; but he was well acquainted 
with the laird’s plans and projects, and with the 
amount of ready money forthcoming to carry 
them out. 

For Brathous as Laird of Levenshope he 
had that respect all Scotchmen feel for 
landowners ; for Brathous as a man he had an 
infinite and indefinite disdain ; his want of reti- 
cence, his petty complaining, his puny wrath, 
his mean subterfuges, were all impotent and 
transparent to this man who moved with a piti- 
less, silent directness to his own ends. 


184 The Flower of Gala Water . 


Yet he heard the story of the telegram with 
some interest. 

“ If the lawyer was dying he didna send for 
the lad without good and sufficient reason,” he 
said. “ But the reason isna bound to be a bad 
one because it is the outcome of a lawyer’s mind. 
However, laird, I will go to Mowbray if you 
wish, and find it out, if so there be anything to 
find out. Of course there will be expenses — my 
time and fares and hotel bills, and so forth.” 

“ If you find out anything to build a wall be- 
tween Miss Janfarie and that young ne’er-do- 
weel, I will not count a few pounds here or there, 
Langton.” 

“ And I will gie you a bit o’ advice, without 
charge, this time, laird : dinna call a man a 
‘ ne’er-do-weel ’ unless you can prove the count. 
The word may not be actionable, but juries are 
kittle cattle, and border juries dinna like ill 
names. They will pass by a few hard knocks 
readier.” 

“ Don’t you trouble yourself, Langton. I will 


The Flower of Gala Water . 185 


just call my enemies what I like to call them. 
I can pay for all the bad words I choose to 
say.” 

“ Dootless, laird ; and you ’ll pay bad words 
easier than you pay bad blows. Take your 
guinea’s worth of them if you want to. I ’ll go 
and see what I can find out against the hand- 
some lad — for he is handsome, and that is no 
lie.” 

“ You need not say so in my presence.” 

“ I ’ll say the truth in any man’s presence.” 

“ If nobody pays you to lie.” 

“ Just sae, laird. I say the truth to please 
mysel’. I lie to please my clients, and they pay 
me for it. At the lang end the great Judge 
willna mak much difference between lawyer 
and client, and in the meantime I hae the 
siller.” He laughed softly to himself, and 
began to pack a valise. “ Now, laird, for the 
expenses. This is a very uncertain job ; I ’ll 
give no credit for expenses.” 

So the laird drew out his long silk purse and 


1 86 The Flower of Gala Water . 


counted out twenty pounds ; and very black and 
ugly he was about it. 

A week afterward Mrs. Brathous and Kather- 
ine were together in the large parlor opening 
into the rose-garden. Katherine was dressed 
for her pony, and she stood by her mother’s 
side, with her soft riding-hat in her hand. Mrs. 
Brathous was patching bits of many-coloured 
satins together, and the medley of rich tints lay 
on her lap and on the carpet at her feet. They 
were talking about Mowbray, and of the earliest 
date at which a letter from New York might be 
expected. Their low, pleasant laughter fell 
upon the laird’s ears as he opened the door. 
Then he pursed up his lips and tried to look at 
once mysteriously angry and mysteriously im- 
portant. 

“ Katherine,” he said, “ you need not leave the 
room when I enter it. That is a very rude habit 
of yours, and must be amended. And to-day 
you cannot go to the manse. There is far too 
much nonsense between you and Jessy Telfair. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 187 


Besides, I have the most important affair to 
bring to your notice — most important.” 

“You had better talk it over with me first, 
Alexander,” said Mrs. Brathous. “ Katherine’s 
pony is waiting.” 

“ Is Katherine’s pony to be put before my 
wish ? No, ma’am ! Katherine, I have found 
out things about Mr. Mowbray that must pre- 
vent the young man ever speaking to you 
again.” 

Katherine glanced at her mother, who an- 
swered for her. 

“ Tut, Alexander ! You are forever finding 
out and suspecting. There is nothing wrong 
about Richard Mowbray.” 

“ He pushed himself into a gentleman’s house 
under false colours. He gave me to understand 
that he is Squire Mowbray. He is not.” 

“ He did not push himself into your house. 
You urged him to come in. He is Squire Mow- 
bray.” 

“ He is not.” 


1 88 The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ How do you know he is not?” 

“ Simon Langton has been to Mowbray. He 
got there just after the funeral of the lawyer 
who telegraphed for Mowbray. The so-called 
squire had not even the decency to wait for his 
friend’s death. He heard what Mr. Hewett had 
to say, and left that very night for America. 
What do you think of that, ma’am ?” 

“ I think he had good reasons for all he did.” 

“To be sure he did. Langton rubbed the 
innkeeper’s memory with a sovereign, and the 
man remembered that an American had been 
there in the spring — he was sure he was an 
American— but whoever he was, he went to the 






dead squire’s grave more than once, and gave 
Dabby Thorn, the housekeeper, a matter of five 
pounds for leave to go through the house. What 
do you think of that, ma’am ?” 

“ It was all right and natural enough.” 

“ Natural ! I should say so. It is Langton’s 
belief that he was the real heir. He found an 
old woman knitting in the sunshine, who told 


The Flower of Gala Water. 189 


him she recollected the dead squire bringing 
home a very handsome lad, who called him 
‘ father/ before ever this Richard Mowbray was 
born. Langton has gone to Edinburgh to in- 
vestigate the life of Squire Reginald Mowbray. 
I have sent him. I remember that when we 
were youths at college Mowbray had a bad name 
about women. What did that ring mean he 
sent the minister ? It is a black business. I 
have no doubt this young Mowbray knew all 
about it, but he thought America was too far off 
to give him trouble.” 

“ Do not, for heaven's sake, Alexander, make 
yourself a bigger fool than nature has already 
made you !” said Mrs. Brathous, rising and put- 
ting aside her satin circles. “ Why should you 
rake among the ashes of the dead for presumed 
wrongs ? Paying good money to that scoundrel 
Langton to discover secrets that never were 
secrets at all.” 

“ Mrs. Brathous — ” 

“ Nonsense ! Why did you pay good money 


90 The Flower of Gala Wafer. 


for such contemptible inquiries? If you had 
come with your questions to me or to Katherine 
or to the minister or to Jessy, we, any of us, 
could have told you what you have been digging 
like a very ghoul to find out. Black busi- 
ness indeed ! Katherine, my dear, go and 
take your ride. Why should you be disap- 
pointed ?” 

“ Katherine cannot go.” 

“ Katherine, do as I tell you.” 

Then, as the door closed, she laid her hand 
upon her husband’s arm, and said with a still 
passion that he always respected : 

“ Brathous, sit down and be quiet, or I will 
leave your house this hour. Then you will have 
the whole country side talking of you and Simon 
Langton. Before going to America Mr. Mow- 
bray came here ; he saw Katherine and told her 
the whole train of circumstances which made it 
proper for him to take the journey. He told 
them to Doctor Telfair also. Katherine and I, 
Doctor Telfair and Jessy, have talked them over 


The Flower of Gala Water. 1 9 1 


very often. The business is family business, 
and there is nothing wrong in it.” 

“ And I ! And I left out in the dark ? It is 
shameful ! Shameful ! Shameful ! I will not 
endure it — ” 

“ Can you avoid enduring it ?” 

“ Why was I not told ? Why was I put to so 
much expense for the sake of your daughter? 
I shall take every penny out of her estate.” 

“ I have no doubt you will — if you are per- 
mitted. And I did not tell you because the end 
of the journey is yet uncertain ; and you know 
that you cannot keep anything private. You 
would have gone from house to house gabbling 
of affairs that did not concern you, and making 
Gala Water ring with Katherine’s name. As 
for expenses, your own spiteful curiosity led you 
into them, and I shall take good care that Kath- 
erine’s estate does not pay a penny of them.” 

“ It is very cruel of you, Helen — to be col- 
leaguing with others — against me. I am a 
badly used man.” 


1Q2 The Flower of Gala Water. 


Then he began to whimper, and the storm 
was over. 

A dead silence followed. Mrs. Brathous took 
up her satin pieces again, but in a weary, de- 
pressed fashion, and the laird sat sulking and 
sighing in his big chair by the open win- 
dow. 

He had the curiosity of a peasant and the sen- 
sitive pride of a small, conceited nature. He 
wanted his wife to tell him the secret, and she 
sat silently matching bits of satin. She was un- 
touched by his air of injury, and not to be led 
into conversation by any irrelevant remark. 
At last he was fully conquered and ready to 
capitulate. Silence was the one thing he could 
not endure. 

“ Helen,” he said, “ you know it is your duty 
to tell your own husband everything.” 

“ I know my duty, Alexander — duties vary 
with husbands.” 

“What is the secret, my dear? I ought to 
know it. Now, ought I not?” 



.“J’p ASK VOIJ TO STAY TILL MORNING, STRANGER .” — See Page J7<) 




The Flower of Gala Water . 193 


“ When I think it is the right time to tell you, 
I will speak.’' 

“ I declare, Helen, I will not name to anyone 
what you tell me. I only want to take care of 
Katherine.” 

“ Katherine can take good care of herself, 
with her mother to guide her — not to speak of 
the minister.” 

“ Helen, I am the laird. It is not right to put 
the minister before me on my own estate. 
Come, Helen ! I will talk with you only. I will 
do what you tell me — yes, I will ! You ought to 
tell me. It is your duty.” 

“ Oh — I am not in the mood of duty to-day.” 

So the plea was continued, the while Mrs. 
Brathous was coming to a decision. It was evi- 
dent Langton had found out part of the truth, 
and might learn it all — perhaps also learn other 
things which it would do no good to bring up — 
dead faults long ago buried and forgotten. She 
disliked Langton. She did not wish to give 
him any further insight into the affairs of a 


194 The Flower of Gala Water. 


family likely to be allied with her own ; and she 
judged that the minister’s influence would be 
sufficient to make her husband prudent until 
the time came to speak. So she finally said : 

“ When did Langton go to Edinburgh ?” 

“ This morning.” 

“ If you will telegraph him to return at once, 
and make him keep absolutely quiet about Kath- 
erine and Mr. Mowbray, I will tell you all.” 

The pledge was readily given and the promise 
fully performed. The laird had a delightful 
afternoon discussing the circumstances with his 
wife. He even felt a sort of temporary kind- 
ness for the young man so suddenly faced with 
such a calamity. For Brathous could really 
hardly conceive of a greater misfortune coming 
to any one than to be in a moment deposed from 
the elder to the second son, and thus fall from a 
landowner to a plain, perhaps a poor gentleman. 

Yet in spite of his professed sympathy, he was 
comforted by the situation. Fortune had never 
dared to play the laird of Levens-hope such a 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


195 


trick, and for several hours he tossed his head 
both at fortune and the poor, disinherited squire 
of Mowbray. He talked with Mrs. Brathous 
until he was tired, and then the desire to talk 
with some one else was irresistible. He said he 
would just walk over and see the minister 
about the new psalm-books, and his wife an- 
swered : 

“ Keep to the psalm-books, Alexander. You 
know what you have promised me. And see 
that you go to Galashiels and send the telegram 
to Langton.” 

He promised all things positively, and she had 
not much doubt that his confidence would be 
restricted to the minister, who was very well 
able to take care of what had been committed to 
him. And she did think the withdrawal of 
Langton from his scrutiny of the late squire’s 
youthful life was a thing Mr. Richard Mowbray 
would be grateful for. There might indeed be 
nothing to reveal, and again there might ; few 
men would care to have the days of their first 


196 The Flower of Gala Water . 


entrance into life set in the searchlight of public 
opinion. So Brathous went to call upon Doctor 
Telfair, and after a slight inquiry about the new 
psalm-books, plunged at once into the subject 
pressing upon him. 

“ I know what took young Mowbray to Amer- 
ica, doctor, and I presume you do, too,” he said, 
with an air of mystery. 

“ Well, then, we will not talk of the matter, 
laird. It is not yet the time to do so. When 
the young man comes back I am ready to speak.” 

And the doctor’s face was so final and his 
voice so imperative that Brathous felt himself 
retired beyond controversy. But as he rode 
to Galashiels to send his telegram, he tasted in 
advance the triumph it would bring him. 

“ First,” he mused, “ Langton will have to 
refund the money I gave him for expenses, and 
he hates to give money back. Second, I shall 
make him feel his shortcomings. I shall say : 
‘ Langton, I have found out with my own good 
sense and power of putting this and that to- 


The Flower of Gala Water. 197 


gether, the beginning and the end of the mat- 
ter.’ He will then look scornful, and I shall 
continue: ‘You were a bit too slow for me, 
Langton. You need a seasoning of my penetra- 
tion, and so on, etc.’ I shall further intimate 
that it was, after all, a mare’s nest — a whiff- 
whaff of country say-so — etc., etc. And then he 
is that suspicious he will be sure to follow the 
scent at his own expense. So if he finds any- 
thing out that my Lady Helen has not told me, 
he will come to me with his ‘find,’ and thus I 
shall have the last word among all, Helen, Kath- 
erine, the minister and Jessy. I have a good 
mind to tell Wintoun. I said I would not, but 
I do believe it to be my duty — he is my own 
nephew. Yes, I will go and see Jamie in the 
morning, and just try and find out if the lad 
knows a thing or two that has not been told me. 
No one is bound to keep a foolish promise — 
made to a woman, too ! God knows, if a man 
was bound by such promises he would be for- 
sw’orn from January to December,” 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE OLD PROPOSE. 

“ The romance we love is that which we write in our own 
heart.” 

“ The Eden we live in is in our own heart.” 

In the morning the laird felt the necessity for 
a further discussion of the remarkable family 
incident to be still more pressing ; and Mrs. 
Brathous was so provokingly indifferent that he 
was sure he had a justifiable excuse for going 
to .Wintoun House. He dallied with his con- 
science, however, all the way there, assuring it 
that he would not say a word of Mowbray’s 
affairs, unless he saw they were going to inter- 
fere with his own, a proviso which opened the 
door for any amount of gossiping. 

[198] 




The Flower of Gala Water. 199 


Wintoun, who was a fine musician, was at his 
piano, and the laird could hear him singing, as 
he approached the house, singing loud and 
clear : 

“ Love in her sunny eyes does basking play.” 

“ I used to sing that song myself once,” the 
Laird complacently reflected. “ Jamie has not a 
very commanding voice. I sing better yet than 
he does.” 

But he did not tell Wintoun this. He talked 
to him a little about border ballads, saying : 

“ They are very romantic and stirring, Jamie, 
and if one could have an accompaniment of gal- 
loping horses to them, they would be just per- 
fect , but I can tell you, Jamie, there is more 
romance in every-day life if you happen to come 
its way.” 

“ I have never happened on anything but the 
most prosaic existence,” answered Jamie, “so I 
am glad to sing ‘ The Braes of Yarrow ’ or the 
* March ! March ! of Etterick and Teviot 
Men !' ” 


200 The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ Tut ! Tut ! That is the romance of bygone 
days, not of the same material nor the same 
color as this life, and so nothing but a bright 
patch on it. Now, there has been a strange 
story right under your eyes lately, Jamie, and 
you never read a line of it.” 

“ A strange story under my eyes ?” 

“Yes; but it took the penetration of afar- 
seeing man like myself to read that fellow Mow- 
bray.” 

Wintoun’s bright face clouded, and he an- 
swered in a tone that was almost sulky : 

“ I would rather you choose some other sub- 
ject'for our conversation, uncle.” 

“ I have something particular to tell you about 
the man.” 

“ I would rather hear nothing at all about him. 
His life does not concern me.” 

“ But it concerns me as Katherine’s guardian. 
I never liked Mowbray, and my suspicions about 
him have turned out to be correct. He will get 
some plain words from me the next time he 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


201 


tries to pass himself off as a great landed pro- 
prietor.” 

“ Is he not Lord of Mowbray Manor ? From 
all I can hear that estate is one of the finest in 
Westmoreland.” 

“ He is not ; he said he was, but he is not.” 

“ I am sure he thought he was. No man 
could carry an assumed position with the per- 
fect ease and dignity Mowbray constantly ex- 
hibited.” 

“ Why do you defend him ? He is your rival.” 

“ The truth is truth, even about my rival.” 

He rose from the piano at these words, with 
the air of a man reluctant to carry on a conver- 
sation. 

“ You see, Jamie, I sent Langton to Mowbray. 
He has found out some very strange things. 
Mowbray himself has fled to America.” 

“ Fled ! I cannot believe it.” 

“ He is in New York, or very near it, by this 
time.” 


I am sorry for Katherine.” 


202 The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ Sorry, indeed ! It is a grand thing for a 
girl to be taken out of the temptation of such a 
like scoundrel. I hope he will stay his lifetime 
in America. There is now nothing between 
you and Katherine, Jamie, and the sooner you 
are married the better.” 

Jamie did not answer a word. 

“ Do you not think so ?” 

“ No.” 

“ I am sure I might as well live between the 
devil and the deep sea as between you and 
Katherine. Neither of you knows your own 
mind two days together.” 

“ Katherine’s mind is my mind. Can I marry 
her against her desire? No, sir. I will not, 
upon my honor ! I am tired of the whole sub- 
ject.” 

“ Tired of Katherine ?” 

“ Yes, if you like to take it so. I am tired of 
being lectured and advised and planned for. 
You have no right to interfere between Kath- 
erine and myself. It is a piece of meddlesome 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


203 


impertinence to fix any one’s wedding-day for 
them. If Katherine and I never marry, it is 
your fault, entirely, uncle.” 

“ Katherine would have married you if that 
scoundrel Mowbray had not come this way. 
Confound the man ! And confound the min- 
ister for bringing him to Levens-hope !” 

“ Swear at your enemies to their faces and 
not behind their backs — that is the way of the 
border. I wish the subject of my marriage to be 
dropped. I will not have it spoken of in my 
house again until it can be discussed in a differ- 
ent spirit.” 

“ Perhaps you would rather discuss the sub- 
ject of your overdue mortgage on Wintoun 
House ?” 

“Yes, I would. Let me know the worst of 
the matter. I am tired of that threat, also. 
How soon do you intend to foreclose ? I will 
roup my whole estate and go to India with the 
residue rather than be hectored and threatened 
by you any longer.” 


204 The Flower of Gala Water . 


“Well, sir, I will threaten no more; I will 
act.” 

“ That is a threat also.” 

“ You will find out. If I did right I would 
take my walking-stick and give you the beating 
I ought to have given you pretty often when 
you were a poor, silly, friendless boy.” 

Jamie smiled and looked at the blackthorn 
shaking in his uncle’s hand. He had no fear of 
that threat, and he did not notice its futile bra- 
vado. He opened the parlor door and, bowing 
politely, answered : 

“ When you can visit me in a more reasonable 
temper, uncle, I will gladly receive you. Silly 
I have often been ; but never poor or friendless ; 
and that I have not many more friends is en- 
tirely yoyr fault.” 

“ Do you order me out of the house ? What 
do you mean, sir, by standing with the open 
door in your hand ? Shameful ! Shameful !” 

“ We will both of us go out of the house, uncle. 
Your horse is waiting, and a gallop over the hills 


The Flower of Gala Water. 205 


will be better than quarreling over a lost 
cause.” 

“ I never expected such treatment from you, 
Jamie — never.” 

“ I never expected you to provoke me to it, 
uncle.” 

They had walked together as far as the laird’s 
horse. The animal was champing on its bit and 
kicking up the gravel in a temper that very well 
suited his master’s, and Wintoun held him by 
the head until the laird mounted. Then he 
turned away into the thick shrubbery, and en- 
deavored to collect his thoughts and control the 
angry passions raised by the interview. 

A sudden clearness of apprehension had come 
to him. He was amazed at the relief which a 
mere assertion of his right to refuse Katherine 
had given him. A wonder and a suspicion never 
before entertained now insisted upon being 
heard. But if Jamie was warm-hearted and 
honest, he was not a very clear or decided 
reasoner. He wanted some one to reason for 


2 o 6 The Flower of Gala Water. 


him — to decide for him. Choosing was always 
a difficult mental exercise, and his hesitation 
was real and painful. Indeed, Jamie Wintoun 
was one of those men for whom it is “ not good 
to be alone.” A quiet sit with his own heart gave 
him no help ; he longed for some one to talk to. 
And his first thought was Jessy Telfair. He 
knew that he could tell her all that troubled 
him. She loved Katherine and she understood 
him, and he resolved after lunch to go to the 
manse and ask Jessy to take a walk with him. 
As they strayed about the hills Jessy would give 
him the best advice about Katherine, for he was 
tired of trying to think out the puzzle by him- 
self. He had given it up and was ready to be 
informed and directed. 

Just as he was sitting down to lunch an old 
gentleman distantly related to the Wintouns 
called upon him, and Jamie was bound, both by 
his inclinations and his interest, to be hospi- 
table and attentive to him. So he was much de- 
layed by the visit, and the afternoon was well 


The Flower of Gala Water. 207 


advanced when he left Wintoun House. Be- 
tween it and the manse there was a little wood, 
and, as the day was sunny, he took the path 
through it. It was a path absolutely private 
and only used by the family and friends of 
Brathous, so he had no fear of meeting strangers 
there ; and yet it was most likely to be the road 
taken by Jessy if she was going to or coming 
from Levens-hope. 

Half way through the wood he saw Katherine 
sitting under the group of pine-trees. Her pink 
dress made a rosy flush in the green shadows ; 
her hat, with its white ribbons, lay beside her ; 
her bright brown hair was braided in a coronal 
above her brows. Jamie could not resist the 
opportunity fate had provided. He went to her 
side with the eagerness of a man who has a 
pleasant surprise. Katherine smiled him a 
welcome. 

“ I am waiting for Jessy,” she said. “ She 
was to meet me here about five o’clock. The 
minister is going away for a few days, and Jessy 


2 o 8 The Flower of Gala Water. 


will stay with me. Jamie, you have been quar- 
reling with your uncle again. He came home 
in an awful temper. You quarreled about me, 
too. It makes me wretched.” 

“ He is so interfering. What right had he to 
fix our wedding-day ?” 

There was a minute’s silence, and then Kath- 
erine said : 

“ Jamie, suppose we take our affairs into our 
own hands. Suppose we agree this hour to be 
absolutely truthful with each other?” 

“ It will make me happy, Katherine. Uncle 
told me Mowbray had gone off to America ; he 
inferred he had been forced to go — that he was 
not the man he pretended to be. Are these 
things so?” 

“ I will tell you the whole story, Jamie and 
sitting erect and looking her old lover full in 
the face, she expl ined to him the circum- 
stances which had taken his rival to Texas. 
“ Did he do right, Jamie?” she asked. 

“ Yes, he did what I should have expected 


The Flower of Gala Water. 209 


him to do. He has stolen your heart, Katherine, 
but I am not cad enough to deny him the beauty 
and the good qualities he possesses. Yet, oh, 
Katherine, I wished you loved me as you love 
him !” 

“ I do not love you, and I cannot love you in 
that way, Jamie. What is more, you do not love 
me as Richard Mowbray loves me. I am not 
sun, moon and stars, heaven and earth, life and 
death to you. I am to Richard. There never 
was a time when my coming into the room 
made all the room sensitive to you ; when 
my voice made you smile and cease speaking ; 
when my touch made music through your being, 
as the touch of fingers on the harp-strings do. 
You and I have never been in love with each 
other. Why should we pretend we have ?** 

“ Oh, Katherine, is that true of me ?” 

“ Quite true, my friend. You admired my 
beauty ; your vanity was flattered by Jack 
Netherby and others asking ‘ when you were 
going to take the Flower of Gala Water to Win- 


210 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


toun House by rhymsters making silly dog- 
gerel verses like — 

1 Up and down gaes Jamie Wintoun, 

Proud and happy he weel may be, 

To win the Flower of Gala Water; 

Beauty and boast of the North Countree !’ 

but even if you were proud and happy, you 

never loved me.” 

“ Have you resolved, then, not to marry me ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And to marry Richard Mowbray ?” 

“ Yes.” 

Then Jamie looked sad and troubled. He 
believed himself to be suffering very much. He 
had some remote, vague, swift passing idea of 
taking her rather roughly to task, and vowing 
never to give her up. But it was an idea with- 
out vitality. He let it go. The mortification of 
her desertion was the thought that made him 
flush and nervously bite his under lip ; but even 
this had some compensation. His uncle would 
suffer in the public gossip far more than he 
would. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


21 1 


“ You are thinking of what people will say ?” 
inquired Katherine. 

“ Yes, there will be talk without end. I do 
not care much. It ’s no one’s business but yours 
and mine.” 

“ Jamie, have you courage to take the horns 
of this dilemma in your own hands — to be my 
friend — to be Richard’s friend — to help us es- 
cape your uncle’s interference ?” Then she took 
his hand, and said, coaxingly : “ Jamie ! I need 
your help. Think that I am your little sister. 
For my sake will you try and like Rich- 
ard ? He is such a noble, generous, truthful 
man.” 

“ I never said or thought different. But it is 
not fair, Katherine, to ask me to like the man 
who has stolen your love from me.” 

“ Let that pass. Will you help us ? No one 
can help us as much as you can.” 

“ What do you want me to do, Katherine?” 

“ Make up your quarrel with my stepfather. 
Let him suppose you are willing that the prep- 


212 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


arations for our marriage shall go on. Richard 
will be back before the end of September.” 

“ But as you will not marry me, what good 
can come from that attitude to either of us ?” 

“ I shall be allowed to remain at home with 
mamma until dear Richard comes back. But if 
the laird knows our marriage is broken off, I 
shall be sent to school, I know not where ; per- 
haps to France or Germany. And in the mean- 
time every day will be a terror full of threats 
and reproaches. You know how wretched he 
can make the whole house.” 

“ And when Mr. Mowbray does come back ? 
What then ?” 

“ We shall be married.” 

“ Your stepfather will not permit it. He will 
raise no end of objections. And until you are 
of age you cannot marry without his consent.” 

“ I have mamma’s consent ; that is enough. 
I shall marry the man I love, and no other.” 

“ Have you, then, thought of running away to 
be married ?” 


The Flower of Gala IValer. 


213 


“ I do not think of running far. Jessy and I 
were wishing, Jamie — we were thinking that 
perhaps — you might be so very good — so won- 
derful kind as to let us be married at your 
house !” 

“ Katherine !” 

“ You see, we could not expect Doctor Telfair 
to take any part against the laird, and I do not 
like to trust the Hislops or the Netherbys ; but, 
oh, Jamie, it would be like going to a brother’s 
house to be married if you would not mind our 
having the ceremony at Wintoun ! You would 
not mind very much, would you, Jamie?” 

Her proposal struck him first with pain and 
amazement. He could hardly credit it. That 
Katherine should marry Mowbray from his 
house with his sanction, was an outrageous par- 
ody on the expectation of years. He laughed 
hysterically at the prospect ; but as she urged 
her plea and gave one reason after another for 
it, he began to realize that such a supreme 
resignation of all his own claims would really 


214 The Flower of Gala Water. 


be both his noblest revenge and his clearest 
justification. And when Jessy joined them, she 
was not long in pointing out how effectually 
such a move would take the sting out of all his 
friends’ condolences. They would be out of 
date, tame and unnecessary. 

Talking over the matter, they lingered in the 
wood until the sun set, and even then it kept 
presenting new views or unforeseen difficulties. 
Jessy put them all aside. She was full of re- 
sources for Katherine and comfortable words 
for Jamie ; and he felt her kind smiles and the 
touch of her sympathetic hand to be a great 
consolation. 

At the garden gate they saw the laird stand- 
ing. Wintoun went frankly to him and said : 

“ I am sorry we had cross words this morning, 
uncle. Excuse my ill-temper.” 

And the laird, after a proper hesitation, looked 
over the offense. Katherine then undertook 
the propitiation, and succeeded well with it. 
She made no promise, and yet Brathous under- 


The Flower of Gala Water . 215 


stood that she preferred marriage to school, and 
he took all else for granted. 

Jamie walked behind them, with Jessy at his 
side. They stood a moment before a bed of 
superb pansies, and Jessy stooped and gathered 
one and gave it to Jamie. 

“ Heart’s-ease !” she said softly. 

And Jamie looked in her cheerful, pretty face, 
and felt that it would be delightful to kiss her 
smiling mouth. 

“ I am so miserable, Jessy,” he said. 

“ But you ought to be happy, Jamie,” she an- 
swered. “ You have been grandly unselfish.” 

“ Katherine does not love me. She says she 
never has loved me. I am not handsome.” 

“ Yes, you are handsome, and a most perfect 
gentleman. No old knight ever behaved more 
chivalrously than you have done the last hour 
or two. And I think you deserve more love 
than Katherine can give you.” 

Then he looked affectionately down at his 
little comforter, and pressed her arm closer to 


216 The Flower of Gala Water . 


his side, and felt that life was not altogether a 
blank. 

So the next few weeks went onward with a 
kind of dull acceptance of events. The laird 
advised Jamie to have his house put in more 
modern order for his bride, and Jamie eagerly 
entered into his suggestions and sent to Edin- 
burgh for decorators and fine furniture ; in fact, 
rather overdid his uncle’s ideas. But the young 
man was beginning to nurse a new hope — one 
which Katherine had revealed to him, and 
which his heart accepted with a thrill of de- 
lightful amazement. It became a common 
afternoon event for the ladies to ride over to 
Wintoun and see what the workmen were doing. 
And always Mrs. Brathous and Katherine wan- 
dered away together, and always Wintoun and 
Jessy were left to look after their own amuse- 
ment, while almost insensibly Wintoun grew 
confidently happy and rather overbearing in 
his opinions, and Jessy quieter and more beau- 
tiful, yet no one could say just when this change 


The Flower of Gala Water . 217 


began. Those whose eyes love had not opened 
supposed Wintoun’s attitude to be a necessary de- 
fense against his uncle’s tyranny. F or the laird, 
having, as he thought, succeeded in compelling 
his family to accept his plans for their and his 
own interest, became very authoritative, and 
fussed and fumed about every petty circum- 
stance and was more and more difficult to man- 
age, as Mrs. Brathous made more frequent 
demands upon him for money for Katherine’s 
bridal outfit. Every check brought forth a dis- 
pute. Every ornament was “ senseless extrava- 
gance.” He was worried by the dressmakers in 
and out of the house, and by Katherine’s inex- 
plicably good spirits, and more still by Win- 
toun’s determination not to discuss with him 
those small details of the expected event which 
seemed so important to the laird’s nature — the 
kind of wine and wedding cake and wedding 
cards, the people to be asked and neglected, the 
length and route of the marriage tour, etc. 

On the morning of the twenty-fifth of Sep- 


2 i 8 The Flower of Gala Water. 


tember, Mrs. Brathous was sitting in her room, 
despondent and worried to an extreme degree. 
Her easy, sanguine disposition had led her, thus 
far, in the daily anticipation of “ something 
happening,” for she had a supreme reliance upon 
that good fortune which looks after people who 
trust their affairs to it. But in five days a de- 
nouement must come, which would be a social 
shock up and down Gala Water. And if Win- 
toun deserted her daughter for Jessy Telfair, 
and Mowbray, for any reason, did not keep his 
appointment, she felt that the chagrin would be 
intolerable, and her husband’s anger so just that 
for once ^he would be unable to meet him with 
her usual weapons. 

One of those sudden sick fears that frequently 
attack the heart just before all reason for fear is 
taken away, had smitten her in the night, and 
she had anticipated the looks and words of all 
her acquaintances, the gossip, true and untrue, 
that would ring from house to house, the pas- 
sion of rage that would knock Brathous against 


The Flower of Gala Water. 219 

every human creature ; the minister’s calm re- 
proaches regarding his own daughter — really, 
that morning she was feeling as if she might be 
a very wicked woman. And Katherine did not 
appear at breakfast. She had “ gone for a 
walk,” her maid said ; and Mrs. Brathous grati- 
fied her lord by a very sincere anger at the girl 
and her unconventional way. 

“ Drabbling her skirts and shoes in the dew, 
like a milking-maid,” she said, fretfully. “ It is 
absurd !” 

“ My dear, she is the Flower of Gala Water,” 
said Brathous, satirically, “ and needs the dew.” 

The remark turned the lady’s wrath upon the 
speaker, and, after a disagreeable meal, she had 
retired to her room to think things over, until 
finally she felt half inclined to make a clean 
breast of the whole affair. 

About ten o’clock Katherine entered the room 
like a streak of sunshine from Iran. She was 
dressed exquisitely in pale-blue, with white 
asters in her hat and at her waist. Her starry 


220 The Flower of Gala Water. 


eyes, her delightful smile, her rosy face, her air 
of perfect happiness, were, for a moment, irri- 
tating. 

“ Oh, Katherine !” cried Mrs. Brathous but 
she got no further. Katherine was kissing the 
complaint off her lips. 

“ He has come, mamma !” she cried. “ We 
are going to see him ! Get dressed, mamma ; I 
will help you ! He is waiting to see me ! Every 
moment is an hour !” 

“ Do be sensible, child. Do you mean that 
Richard Mowbray has come ? Where is 
he ?” 

“ He is staying with Jamie Wintoun. Will 
you please believe that, of all things ? Jessy 
got Jamie to meet him at the train and take him 
to Wintoun as his guest.” 

“ Katherine, what a shame !” 

“ No ; Jamie and Richard have to be brothers, 
and they may as well begin at once. Jessy and 
I could not have our husbands hating each 
other,” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


221 


Then Mrs. Brathous laughed, and began to 
get interested. 

“ You see, also, mamma, my guardian will 
never think of looking for Richard at Wintoun ; 
but he has been at the hotel at Galashiels every 
day lately, asking for him. Jamie found that 
out and told us, and so Jessy said : ‘ You must 
meet Mr. Mowbray, Jamie, love, and ask him to 
stay at Wintoun.’ And when she had whispered 
to Wintoun, Jamie nodded and smiled and met 
him last night at the midnight train.” 

“ Jamie is an angel of light, Katherine.” 

“ He is a very good man. Jessy kissed him 
for being so good. Men are generally ‘ good ’ 
for compensation.” 

“ How are we to get to Wintoun House? And 
I will not go by the manse, for Doctor Telfair’s 
face hurts me. When he finds out about Jessy, 
I shall shut myself in my room.” 

“ Jessy is here, and the pony-carriage is wait- 
ing. You can drive, mamma.” 

Then the toilet went rapidly forward, and the 


222 


The Flower of Gala Water . 


laird was astonished to see his wife come down- 
stairs in the sweetest of moods and dressed for 
a drive. 

“ We are going to ride over to Wintoun, 
Alexander,” she said, “ and we may go to Gala- 
shiels, so do not wait for us.” 

And Brathous answered : 

“ Very well, my dear ;” but as soon as the 
ponies had passed the gates, he turned to the 
house for his own horse. “ Galashiels !” he 
muttered. “ Galashiels ! If you are going 
there, I am going, too. All three women looked 
too happy not to have some mischief on hand.” 

“ Now,” said Mrs. Brathous, as she flecked 
her whip for emphasis, “ the laird will away to 
Galashiels as fast as St. Serge can trot him 
there, and we can have some comfort at Win- 
toun.” 

In less than half an hour they arrived at Win- 
toun, and there they found Jamie and his guest 
in the breakfast parlor. They were smoking 
and chatting in the pleasantest manner. Jamie’s 


The Flower of Gala Water. 223 


laugh was their welcome as the door opened, 
and then what a delightful commotion there 
was ! Katherine was in Mowbray's arms, Jessy 
and Wintoun were clasping hands, and Mrs. 
B-rathous was effusively thanking Jamie, and 
thus committing herself deeper to all that these 
four love-sick young people might propose 
to do. 

And what thought was there of a selfish, un- 
reasonable old guardian when there was such a 
young man as Richard Mowbray present ? His 
love-darting eyes, his handsome face, his caress- 
ing manner, won him his will, whatever he 
wanted. He took Katherine into the drawing- 
room and put his heart into her hands — he wooed 
her as if she was the only woman in the world — 
he left their friends to talk of trains and trunks, 
and all the lets and bars, which even lovers 
have to submit to. What he had to say had 
conditions of almost divine eloquence— mono- 
syllables and silences— flashing intelligences 
beyond words— kisses that were eternal prom- 


224 The Flower of Gala Water. 


ises — the clasping hands and the mingling of 
soft black hair with tresses like the dawn. 

In the meantime Mrs. Brathous discussed with 
Jessy and Jamie a plan they had arranged for 
escaping the laird’s interference. 

“ You must have a bride party at Levens-hope 
as soon as you can,” said Jamie to Mrs. Brathous ; 
“and during its progress Katherine will join 
Mowbray. They will come here. I have already 
spoken to a young minister from Innerleithen. 
He knows nothing but that the marriage is 
proper and honorable, and approved by those 
who have the right to approve it; and this I 
certified by my word of honor. The servants 
can be called as witnesses at the moment needed, 
and so will not have time to talk or to give any 
information. When the first tumult of the dis- 
covery is over, I will return to Wintoun and 
drive them myself to Symington. The laird 
will be sure they have taken the train either to 
Edinburgh or Carlisle ; he will never think of 
their going to Glasgow. But from Glasgow they 


The Flower of Gala Water. 225 

can easily reach Liverpool, and I think Mowbray 
purposes to carry his bride to America first.” 

“ That is a long way off, Jamie. I do not like 
it,” said Mrs. Brathous. 

“ But they will not be safe from annoyance 
unless they are a long way off. They are going 
round the world to reach their home. I do not 
know but what Jessy and I will follow them. 
Mowbray says they will wait in New York for 
us,” and Wintoun looked at his pretty Jessy, 
and she slipped her hand into his and nodded 
brightly at the suggestion. And quickly the 
hours flew by in these discussions, for after 
lunch they lost themselves in the garden to 
continue them. At length, however, Mrs. 
Brathous declared they must return to Levens- 
hope ; “ and Jamie,” she said, “ must go with 
us, for the laird is a suspicious creature, and we 
must give him neither word nor sign to go by.” 

The laird had trotted to Galashiels and back 
and was tired and disappointed. Yet he could 
not complain, for he did not want his wife to 


226 The Flower of Gala Water. 


think that he had any remembrance of Mow- 
bray or any suspicion that Katherine might 
have written to him, or that he could in any way 
interfere with her marriage with Wintoun. He 
thought that by ignoring the danger he might 
annihilate it. He had satisfied himself that the 
Englishman was not at any of the inns in Gala- 
shiels. He had called at the manse, and, find- 
ing the doctor out, had bluntly asked, “ If they 
had any company,” and been quite assured by 
the servant’s negative. And yet there was 
something about Katherine and her mother he 
could not understand. But how can a man 
complain of a feeling so vague that it is undefin- 
able ? 

After Jamie and Jessy had left, Mrs. Brathous 
seemed inclined to talk, and the laird gladly 
humored her. 

“ She is sure to let something out,” he thought. 

“ Jamie says we ought to have a party, a little 
dance and supper before the wedding to re- 
hearse the ceremony and introduce people to 


The Flower of Gala Water. 227 


one another,” was her first remark. “ What do 
you think, Alexander?” 

“ I think it will cost too much money.” 

“ I will pay all the cost out of my private in- 
come. Jamie wants it. Some of his people are 
strangers here.” 

“ Then let Jamie pay for it. Your doing so 
is only robbing Peter to pay Paul. Katherine 
has been no end of expense lately. I shall be 
glad enough when she is away to her own 
home.” 

And he looked so sour and ill-natured that 
Mrs. Brathous answered quickly : 

“ So shall I ! I am sure nobody can wish to 
stay in your home that can help it !” 

“ I am sorry enough for my nephew. He will 
have his hands full with his ‘ Flower of Gala 
Water/ and she will wither and fade just like 
the rest of us.” 

“ Think shame of yourself, Alexander, for 
saying such unkind words. If Jamie has a drop 
of your bfood in him, he will make a poor htis* 


228 The Flower of Gala Water . 


band for any girl. My daughter need not make 
you sorry for him. If I had taken her into the 
world for a season, she would have bettered 
your nephew a thousandfold. If you are sorry 
for Jamie, stop the wedding at once. Katherine 
will be glad to have it stopped.” 

“ I dare say she will. What does she care for 
the shame and the talk I would have to meet up 
hill and down dale and in the market-place ? 
She could then marry that runaway Englishman. 
I dare say she would be glad. But I am not 
going to pain and shame Jamie to please her. 
Poor Jamie !” 

“ Poor Jamie, indeed ! Alexander, you have 
a bad tongue. But take care ! The bad tongue 
eventually says some words that pay for all the 
others.” 

She lifted her ball of wool, threw her knitting 
passionately into her work-basket, and left the 
parlor. It was to Katherine’s room she went. 
The girl was sitting in her night-dress, reading 
a song Mowbray had written to her, and her 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


229 


sweet, bright face, all smiles and dimples, made 
the tears spring to her mother’s eyes. She told 
Katherine what her guardian had said, and 
added : 

“ Now, my dear, I will have no more scruples. 
To-morrow send invitations to the Hislops and 
the Heriots, the Hetherbys and all the young 
people you know. Tell them it is for an in- 
formal dance on next Monday night, and then 
tell Richard he must make his arrangements to 
suit.” 

“ Mamma, darling, how are you going to bear 
the storm we shall outfly ? The laird and the 
minister and the people, you know — gentle and 
simple ?” 

“ I shall tell myself my little girl is happy ; 
that Charlie Janfarie’s little girl is happy. As 
for the laird, he will bluff and bluster in public, 
and go down on his knees to me when we are 
alone. I snap my fingers at him ! And as for 
the minister, the laird is sure to call him names, 
and rouse the man in the minister so far that he 


230 The Flower of Gala Water. 


is pretty certain to say : ‘ Wintoun and Jessy, 
and you and I and Mowbray — one and all of us 
did right/ Do not give yourself a care about 
me, Katherine, my darling daughter. I shall 
want something to break the blow when you are 
gone from me, and I shall have the fight with 
your guardian at hand. At any rate, it will be 
pleasant to remind him that he has no longer 
any occasion to pity his ‘ poor nephew/ ” 






CHAPTER VII. 

THE YOUNG DISPOSE. 

“ The happiness of her child is the crown of a mother.” 

“ Love and hope lay encamped before the gates of the 
future.” 

The bride-dance was not further discussed, 
but the young people of the neighbourhood were 
all bidden to it, and in the interval, while the 
laird was away one day, Katherine’s trunks were 
sent to the Northwestern Hotel, Liverpool. 
There was telegraphing to and fro, and riding 
here and there, and nobody had ever seen Jamie 
Wintoun so busy ; but then, when a man is to 
be married in a day or two, anything is ordinary 
and expedient. 


[230 


2 3 2 The Flower of Gala Water. 


Fortunately, Monday was one of those lovely 
days which are the charm of the dying sum- 
mer, and the night, though moonless, was 
bright with stars and only pleasantly cool. A 
large company of young men and maidens was 
gathered at Levens-hope. They trooped through 
the halls and ran up and down the stairs and 
danced in the parlours and flirted in the green- 
houses. The laird was important and effusive ; 
Mrs. Brathous was playing waltzes and singing 
songs and finding partners and sending servants 
here and there and everywhere.. There were 
fiddlers in the large hall, and they were dan- 
cing the Lancers there. 

Katherine, in a gown which had the ineffable 
softness of pale-primrose silk, covered with 
Valenciennes, was a wonderful picture. Her 
beauty was so harmonious, so radiant with love, 
so etherealized by the emotions filling her 
heart, that even Jessy was amazed at her trans- 
figuration. She danced continually. She had 
a kind word for everyone ; she appeared 


The Flower of Gala Water . 233 


to be the happiest of all that happy com- 
pany. Jessy kept close at her side, and it 
■was remembered afterward that she was 
evidently on the watch, and very frequently in 
the southern greenhouse. This enclosure was 
entered from one of the parlours, and had a 
door at the other end opening into the garden 
shrubbery. 

About ten o’clock Jessy was singing, and it 
was while the delicious strains of “ Braw, Braw, 
Lads o’ Gala Water ” were floating through the 
room, that Katherine was aware of the con- 
certed signal. Wintoun was looking into Jessy’s 
face, and taking tc his own heart the words 
dropping so musically from her lips : 

“ But there is ane, a secret ane, 

Aboon them a’ that I loe better ; 

And I ’ll be his, and he ’ll be mine, 

The bonnie lad o’ Gala Water!” 

Then they were both aware of Katherine’s 
wide-open eyes and the intelligence in them. 
vShe glanced at her confederates and then took 
her mother aside. 


234 The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ Darling mamma, kiss me ! Bless me ! I am 
going, mamma. Oh, bless me, mamma, and kiss 
me again ! And, mamma, dear, if you can play 
something and get Jamie to sing — Jamie makes 
everybody listen to him.” 

A tight, clinging clasp of her child’s hand, a 
gaze full of mother-love and blessing, and then 
Mrs. Brathous, trembling, almost fainting, put 
aside, with a strong heart, her own sorrow, and 
called, cheerily : 

“ Come here, Jamie Wintoun, and sing us a 
song.” 

Without a purport or intention, she opened 
the book at “Jock o’ Hazledean,” and Jamie, 
smiling at the apropos sentiment, sang with 
charming spirit how the lovely bride of the chief 
of Errington wept for “ Jock o’ Hazledean.” 

Some one was looking for Katherine as the 
first words of the song rang through the par- 
lours. Some one said they had seen her go 
into the greenhouse. She was called, but an- 
swered not. Then Jessy was missed. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 235 


“ They are doubtless together,” said Mrs. 
Brathous, between verses. 

The little sough of wonder grew, and, finally, 
dancing stopped in the hall, and the fiddles 
were quiet, and every one was asking : 

“ Where is Katherine Janfarie and Jessy Tel- 
fair?” 

Mrs. Brathous prolonged the cadences and in- 
tervals, and Jamie sang the third verse twice 
over, and the sense of “something wrong” 
flashed like thought from mind to mind. The 
music began to sound strange ; Jamie sang as if 
he had to' sing, and Mrs. Brathous played with 
hysterical restlessness. But the tiresome song 
went droning on, while guests wondered, and 
the uneasy feeling spread to the smoking-room 
and brought the laird out in a fuss and in a 
flurry. And when he entered the parlour, Jamie’s 
voice had a telling fatefulness in it, for, as he 
caught his uncle’s glance, he involuntarily sent 
to his ears and consciousness the last singularly 
prophetic words of the song : 


236 The Flower of Gala Water. 


“ They sought her both in bower and ha’ 

The lady was not seen ; 

She ’s o’er the border and awa’ 

Wi’ Jock o’ Hazeldean !” 

Brathous went angrily to his wife. 

“Where is Katherine?” he asked. “She is 
not to be found, I hear. What nonsense is this, 
ma’am?” 

“ She is with Jessy, I suppose. Both are 
missing for awhile. They have a good reason, 
no doubt.” 

“ I don’t believe it.” 

Then he sent the servants flying through 
every room of the house. He searched the gar- 
den himself, the hazel-walk and the green- 
houses. The two girls were not to be found. 
Wintoun was questioned and cross-questioned.. 
He knew nothing. He had been singing. 
Katherine was present when -he began ; that 
was all he knew. Mrs. Brathous fled to her 
room to avoid the sympathy and questions of 
the curious. At length Brathous said, passion- 
ately : 


The Flower of Gala Water. 237 


“ My ward has evidently run away, gentle- 
men, and I make no doubt it is with the Eng 
lishman, Mowbray: I must reach the railway 
lines as soon as possible. Wintoun will take 
the south-bound stations, I will take the north. 
Harribee, Canfer, Scott, Hays, you all have 
daughters of your own ; as you ride homewards 
I will ask you to look out for the wicked lasses.” 

Then there was mounting and riding and rac- 
ing in every direction from Levens-hope, and 
the ball was at an end, and the girls and youths 
went home in a delightful state of excitement, 
and no one had the least expectation, or even 
the least desire that Katherine should be over- 
taken. Indeed, it was but a half-hearted race 
with every one but the laird. Gradually his 
companions left him as they reached roads lead- 
ing them to their own homes. For all were sure 
that Katherine had taken a train either north or 
south, and what use was there in running after 
a steam engine ? 

At the railway station no one would acknowl- 


238 The Flower of Gala Watei\ 


edge that they had seen the young ladies, and 
though the strange minister was in the very act 
of marrying Katherine and Mowbray as the 
laird and his friends passed Wintoun House, no 
one had a suspicion of what was going on within 
it, for the windows of the lighted parlour were 
shuttered and draped, and the whole building 
had a dark and deserted appearance. 

Then he went to the manse, and was told that 
Doctor Telfair was in Stirling. He would not 
believe it. Wintoun said : “You are unreason- 
able, uncle,” and was called in answer “ a poor, 
miserable laggard of a lover,” a few words which 
gave the young man the excuse he desired for 
retiring to his own house. 

By midnight the search had been practically 
abandoned. The laird was raging at every 
one. He had seen smiles that were an insult to 
him. None of his friends had shown the least 
interest in the recovery of the runaway bride. 
Hays and Canfer had sneaked off at the first 
turning. Harribee had laughed at the lasses’ 


The Flower of Gala Water. 239 


pluck ; and Scott had plainly told him that “ the 
day for ‘ giving women away in marriage ’ had 
gone far by. “ Brathous, man !” he added, 
“ the lasses just give themselves away these 
days, and a fine thing it is for good men that 
they should do so. I ’ll warrant Katherine Jan- 
farie has taken care of herself, and the minis- 
ter’s clever daughter will not be far behind her. 
Let them alone and they will come home all 
of which comfort Brathous felt to be like the 
words of Eliphaz and Bildad and Zophar. 

On Mrs. Brathous fell the residue of the laird’s 
wrath and fears. He went to her room vibrating 
with passion and wounded self-esteem. 

“This is a shameful to-do, Helen,” he cried. 
“ This is a most outrageous insult ! There 
never was a more ill-used man. I am demented 
with the shame that has come to me. And you, 
Helen ! There you sit as calm as a sucking 
baby, while that ungrateful girl of yours is 
bringing disgrace on me and mine. I always 
told you what Katherine Janfarie was, a little 


240 The Flower of Gala Water. 


snake in the grass. Just think of your daugh- 
ter running away from home and friends and 
good name.” 

“ Take care, Alexander/' 

“ It is too late to take care, ma’am. I wish he 
may marry her ! I only wish he may ! I am 
feared he will have too much sense ; a little, de- 
ceitful huzzy.” 

Then the mother’s patience failed, and she 
said, with a sincere satisfaction : 

“ Katherine was not deceitful — not in the 
least ! I knew all about her marriage. Jamie 
knew all about it. Jessy knew all about it. All 
of us have helped Katherine and Mowbray. 
They were married at Jamie’s house. You must 
have passed the door while the minister from 
Innerleithen was making them man and wife. 
Jamie is going to marry Jessy Telfair. He has 
been in love with Jessy for a long time, and 
Jessy was in love with him. Katherine and I 
made that match — a sweet, honest love-match 
as ever was. Now, Alexander, that is all about 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


241 


it. You never thought for any one but yourself, 
and you would have gladly made four people 
miserable to carry out your own selfish plan for 
uniting two bits of land. I would not suffer 
such a thing. No, sir !” 

“I ought to have been told/’ 

“ To what purpose ? I would have told you 
if you had been a reasonable man. But to say 
4 No * to your ‘ Yes,’ it would have been as wise- 
like as to shake .a red flag in the face of a raging 
bull .” 

“ I do not care so much about Katherine. She 
has aye been a thorn in my flesh. But Jamie ! 
Jamie Wintoun to marry Jessy Telfair ! It is 
beyond bearing. And it is you and that imper- 
tinent minister’s lassie that have been teaching 
Jamie lately to set himself against me in every- 
thing — yes, even about such a small matter as 
the painting of his bedroom.” 

“ What had you to do with the lad’s bedroom? 
You were ever too meddlesome. No one could 
stand you. I do not blame Jamie for ridding 


242 The Flower of Gala Water. 


himself of you. He has chosen a clever wife, 
and you may make up your mind to let Jamie’s 
affairs alone for the future.” 

“ You have deceived me, ma’am ! You have 
deceived me ! The whole country-side shall 
know of it !” 

“ The whole country-side will take you for 
their laughter. Now, Alexander, you have said 
enough and too much. If you do not behave 
yourself, I will make you sorry that you ever 
were born. I am tired, and want to go to sleep. 
Katherine is away o’er the border by this time. 
What cannot be cured must be endured. Go to 
bed and sleep. You are fit for nothing else.” 

“ I will go to the minister. I will give him 
the plain truth.” 

“ And you will get it also. I advise you to 
let Doctor Telfair alone. He knew nothing 
about the matter.” 

“ It is all his planning.” 

“ It is not. I planned it. There was no plan- 
ning. Events just grew to ripeness day by day.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 24% 


“ I never heard of such treatment of a hus- 
band. Never! Never! It is shameful ! Shame- 
ful r 

“ Go to bed, sir.” 

“ I will not. I want some comfort. I will 
speak my mind.” 

And thus the wretched night went on, full of 
turmoil and reproaches, but the mother com- 
forted herself with the thought of her child’s 
happiness. And she hoped that the morn- 
ing would bring Jamie and good news, nor 
was she disappointed. Jamie came about noon. 
He was shining with satisfaction. He had seen 
the minister, and his own marriage was ar- 
ranged for. Fortunately for him, he had been 
delayed long enough to allow the laird to speak 
to the minister first. In fact, the outraged 
Brathous had entered the manse parlour while 
Jessy was smilingly pouring out her father’s 
coffee. 

“ How did you get here, Miss Telfair ?” asked 
the laird, angrily. 


244 The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ The minister from Innerleithen brought me 
home.’' 

“ Humff-ff ! And when did you get home, 
sir? Or were you hiding last night from me ?” 

“ I hide from no man, laird. I got home half 
an hour ago. Is it any of your business ?” 

“ Yes, it is.” 

Then the laird told his story, and told it with 
very angry additions and interjections, and in 
the very midst of the passionate recital Jamie 
Wintoun came in and explained his share in the 
matter, and this necessitated the confession of 
his love for Jessy and the asking of her hand 
from her father. He was constantly and wrath- 
fully interrupted by his uncle, but Wintoun at 
this hour was manly enough. He said firmly : 

“ I love your daughter, Doctor Telfair, and 
with your consent we think it best to be married 
this afternoon.” 

“ It is a base plot, all through,” cried the laird, 
“ and you, Doctor Telfair, are at the bottom of 
it ! A fine thing for your tocherless lass to be 


The Flower of Gala Water. 245 


lady of Wintoun House ! I daur you to beguile 
a lad like Jamie Wintoun into marriage ! I 
will have a church session anent it ! I will 
that !” 

“ Wintoun,” said the minister, quite ignoring 
the laird’s remarks, “ you are right. Under the 
circumstances, it is proper for you and Jessy to 
be married immediately.” 

“ This afternoon, sir, at three o’clock. Will 
that suit you ?” 

“Yes. Come here to the manse. I will my- 
self make you man and wife.” 

“ Do you hear me, minister ? I will not have 
it. I will put you under bonds, Jamie Win- 
toun ! I will! I will!” 

“ Keep your temper, laird. You will bring on 
an apoplectic fit, setting yourself in such a like 
blaze of senseless passion. Wintoun, good 
morning. Good-morning, laird. It is not every 
day a man marries his daughter, and I have 
friends to haste to the wedding. Jessy, my 
dearie, you come with me.” 


246 The Flower of Gala Walef. 


But when he had taken her to his study he 
looked at her with anger and said : 

“ You have done very wrong, Jessy, and you 
have caused me to do wrong and to make a 
foolish promise that I might right you in the 
laird’s and other people’s eyes. And I will tell 
you, Jessy Telfair, that the whole circumstance 
is a shame, and no one on the earth but three 
foolish women would have had anything to do 
with it.” 

“ Except three men — three foolish men, father 
— Jamie and Mowbray and the minister from 
Innerleithen.” 

Then Doctor Telfair shrugged his shoulders 
and tossed his sermon paper about ; but finally 
he kissed Jessy, though he shook his head re- 
proachfully ere he did so. 

As the laird had foreseen, the story set Gala 
Water in a commotion from the lonely farms in 
the Moorfoot Hills northward to Dalkeith, and 
southward through all the homes of Teviotdale. 
But time does wonders, and the laird acted pre- 


The Flower of Gala Water . 247 


cisely as Mrs. Brathous anticipated he would. 
He blustered a little in public, and complained 
and even cried a little to his lawyer and more 
intimate friends ; but privately he went down 
on his knees to his wife, and in that excellent 
discipline was gradually led to see things as she 
saw them. He was first reconciled to Doctor 
Telfair, and then he forgave Jamie. Contrary 
to all expectations, Jessy was not tocherless, and 
her little fortune set Wintoun lands and Win- 
toun’s master free. And as soon as this was 
the case, Brathous made a merit of forgiving 
Jamie. 

“ He is my nephew, after all, Helen,” he 
said, “ and I cannot give him the back of my 
hand, though he well deserves it.” 

Then he began to be curious about Mowbray 
and Katherine. Long and frequent letters 
came from various countries, and it was a 
trial to see his wife enjoying them all by her- 
self. He heard her also telling visitors about 
Texas, California, Japan, India, Greece and 


248 The Flower of Gala Water, 


Italy, etc., and he heard just enough to make 
him restlessly curious. One day he said : 

“ Helen, my dear, I think I ought now to for- 
give Katherine and her husband. I suppose 
they will be home soon, and I do not approve of 
quarreling in families.” 

“ Mowbray expects to go into Parliament, and 
he is hurrying home for the election. I think 
of going to Mowbray Hall next week.” 

“ I will go with you. I know all about election 
business. I can give our son-in-law valuable ad- 
vice. And I hope I am a good Christian, Helen, 
and know how to forgive a wrong. It would be 
a pity for the two young things to feel my anger 
— though it was just anger — a shadow in their 
home.” 

There was no shadow in Mowbray Hall when 
the laird and Mrs. Brathous reached it. There 
is no shadow likely to be there, for love made a 
constant glory in the fine old mansion. And 
Katherine was so happy and so beautiful, and 
Mowbray happy and so busy, and Mowbray Hall 


The Flower of Gala Water. 249 


was so much larger and grander than Levens- 
hope, that Brathous felt subdued to a most con- 
ciliating spirit. 

And he really was very helpful to Mowbray 
in his electioneering. The young man was dis- 
posed to rely on his ancient name and prestige 
and his rights as a landlord. But these things 
had lost much of their influence even with the 
hinds and shepherds on the estate ; and it was 
the laird’s Scotch subtlety and dictatorial man- 
ner which demolished all objections. And when 
the victory was won the laird did not fail to take 
all the credit due him. 

“ Mowbray may thank his stars and Alex- 
ander Brathous that he can write M. P. after his 
name,” he said, complacently. “ That is so, is 
it not, Helen ?” 

“ You are just a wonder, Alexander, and 
doubtless if you had come sooner the harvest 
would have been a month beforehand.” 

She was standing at the window with a beam- 
ing face, and Brathous went to her side. 


250 The Flower of Gala Water . 


“ You are aye jesting- at me, Helen," he said. 
“ What are you looking at so pleased like ?” 

Then her glance directed him to Katherine 
and Mowbray. They were in the sunny garden 
standing together with clasped hands and un- 
covered heads under a large laburnum tree. 
Its golden rain of yellow blossoms made a glory 
on their faces. They were talking happily, and 
heart was answering heart and eyes answering 
eyes in love and laughter. 

“ How happy they are, Alexander ! Are you 
not glad they ran away to be so happy ?” asked 
Mrs. Brathous. 

“ It is an extraordinary exception, Helen ! 
Extraordinary ! I hope it may last !” answered 
Brathous. “ For in all my sixty years I never 
yet knew a happy runaway marriage. Never 
one ! And I have always seen that the girl 
who goes for her husband without her parents’ 
blessing goes for dool and sorrow and shame 
enough.” 

“ But Katherine had her parents’ blessing. I 


The Flower of Gala Water. 251 


gave her my blessing from the first hour. And 
I gave her Charlie Janfarie’s blessing also. I 
knew that Charlie would approve Richard Mow- 
bray. They are both Tories and Church of 
England men — at least, Charlie was and Rich- 
ard is. Charlie liked fishing and fox-hunting as 
much as Richard does ; and as for the classics 
and literature of all kinds !” the lady lifted up 
her white dimpled hands to express the admir- 
ation that she had for Mowbray’s and the de- 
ceased Janfarie’s intellects. 

The laird was not much dashed. He con- 
tinued : 

“ I knew Charlie Janfarie as well as you did. 
He was a nice, ordinary young man. I dare say 
Mowbray would be about his level. I look a 
little above their mark. I stood by Mowbray in 
politics for your sake, Helen — my own opinions 
are a good deal in advance of his — and I won 
his seat for him. But for my influence he would 
now be biting his thumbs o’er his unprofitable 
election bills. Yes — yes ; he went on my shoub 


252 The Flower of Gala Water. 


ders to the House of Commons, and that nobody 
can deny ! Fishing I have no opinion of at all. 
Any bit of a boy can put a string at the end of 
a stick and catch a trout. And I would think 
shame of myself if I could bear to be one of a 
big crowd of men and horses chasing a poor dog- 
fox, forbye that half the time the fox gets the 
better of them. As for the classics, I stood well 
enough in them when I was at college. There 
is a time and a place for the classics, and the 
Laird of Levens-hope knows better than to mix 
his farming up with Horace and Virgil. I am 
about two thousand years ahead of them, Helen. 
Charlie Janfarie was my friend. He left his 
daughter in my care.” 

“ You mean he left her money in your 
care.” 

“ Charlie thought a deal of my wisdom, and I 
thought a deal of Charlie’s good, easy temper. 
For his sake I hope Katherine may be happier 
than is likely.” 

“ She is happy. She is very happy.” 


The Flower of Gala Water. 253 


“ At the present, Helen, at the present — the 
future — ” 

“ The future,” said Mrs. Brathous, interrupt- 
ing him, sharply, “ the future is not in your 
ordering, Alexander. Look at them. They 
love God and each other, they have youth, 
beauty, health and wealth, and surely I believe 
that 


* Destiny who sees them so divine 
Will weave their future in a silken twine.* ” 


THE END. 
























MAGNOLIA. 


A Romance of Western Texas. 


CHAPTER I. 



OME of the bloodiest battles of Texan border 


warfare have taken place in those wild 


stretches of prairie between the Nueces and 
the Rio Grande. There, upon miles of meadow, 
the rancher o s cattle feed. 

<< While brown vaqueros with careless rein, 

Dashing madly over the plain, 

Swing reatas on restless steed;” 

and there, as a natural consequence, the fierce 
and clever Apache is a frequent visitor. 


[255] 


256 


Magnolia. 


The days when Mexico disputed these glorious 
meadows with Texas are past. At the muzzle 
of the rifle and at the point of the bowie-knife, 
they have been cleared of banditti and Indians, 
and prepared by heroes for a dwelling-place for 
Liberty. But when the battle-ground covers 
hundreds of miles, the fight is long and scatter- 
ing, and oft renewed. Even at this day the 
great plains of the Pecos and Presidio, and the 
counties stretching from Zapata to Concho are 
under the constant watch of the rangers. But 
twenty-five years ago the constant watch was a 
constant warfare, and the bravest men that ever 
pulled a trigger waged ceaselessly the great 
battle of humanity, the strife of civilization 
against the savage, the strife of liberty against 
priestcraft and political tyranny. 

True, Texas had then won her independence 
and had voluntarily become a member of the 
United States ; but horse-thieves and cattle- 
thieves, Mexicans and Indians, still disputed the 
fertile prairies of the far West, and the rich val- 



“ HOW DID YOU GET here, Miss TELFAIR V’—tiee Page 243 
























































. I 










































. • * 





Magnolia. 


2 57 


leys where, under forests of pecans and mul- 
berries, the thin, languid waters of the Concho 
slipped along, pontooned over with lilies, while 
the narrow, dusty bottoms of the Rio Grande, 
naked, but incalculably fertile, were to fight for, 
over and over again. 

Gradually, however, the land was divided into 
counties, and small county towns sprang up and 
became centers of justice and commerce. They 
had a general resemblance, and were often 
pretty places on the edge of a wood or prairie, 
containing a church, a jail, a few stores, a great 
many bar-rooms, and cozy, rambling log-houses, 
the population being a curious mixture of idle- 
looking gentlemen, Jewish traders, rangers, In- 
dian spies, and Mexican peons. 

Such a little town was Fair Play, in the year 
1861 ; but being in a very southern latitude, it 
nestled in an almost tropical wealth of foliage. 
Early in April the china-trees were full of their 
pale, lilac, richly-scented blooms ; and the hum- 
ming birds, intoxicated with delight, darting in 


26 o 


Magnolia. 


tened for a conversation that no one in the 
store seemed inclined to commence. Petralto, 
hoping to hear something of the route the next 
great cattle drove would take ; Cachise, in his 
capacity of spy for the United States troops at 
Nigrita Pass, ready to catch any secession infor- 
mation for the officers stationed there. 

Cachise’s information came from an unex- 
pected source. There had been a long silence, 
when a young ranger straightened his tilted 
chair, and said : 

“ There ’s Bowie’s little race-horse ; I know its 
step.” 

He strolled to the door and looked out. Evi- 
dently in accord with his expectations, a girl 
was riding it. She came at a rapid “ lope ” up 
the street and stopped at Levi’s. Not every 
one would have called her handsome, but to the 
few who could feel her beauty, she was wonder- 
fully so. She was a dark-haired girl, slim as a 
palm-tree, with soft, large eyes and a white, low 
forehead. For the rest, she was a woman with 


Magnolia. 


261 


vigorous griefs and joys ; a woman of the day- 
time, capable of a great love, ready to do and to 
bear. • 

“ Oh, Jack !” she cried, and her clear, pale 
cheeks flooded with crimson. “ Oh, Jack ! 
Texas has left the Union. Tony came home 
this morning. He was in Austin, and saw the 
Ordinance of Secession passed. It was passed 
at ten o’clock at night, and the streets were 
crowded until daylight. You must raise a com- 
pany here — of our own men — at once — to- 
day !” 

“ If you are set on that, Magnolia, of course, 
I ’ll do my part. I ’d rather shoot Indians on 
general principles than white men, but I ’ll be 
on hand — you bet I will, if there’s any fighting 
to be done.” 

Cachise appeared to be untying his mustang, 
but he had heard every word, and the next mo- 
ment, with limbs encircling his horse and head 
bent forward nearly to the animal’s neck, he was 
riding away at his utmost speed. 


26 o 


Magnolia. 


tened for a conversation that no one in the 
store seemed inclined to commence. Petralto, 
hoping to hear something of the route the next 
great cattle drove would take ; Cachise, in his 
capacity of spy for the United States troops at 
Nigrita Pass, ready to catch any secession infor- 
mation for the officers stationed there. 

Cachise’s information came from an unex- 
pected source. There had been a long silence, 
when a young ranger straightened his tilted 
chair, and said : 

“ There ’s Bowie’s little race-horse ; I know its 
step.” 

He strolled to the door and looked out. Evi- 
dently in accord with his expectations, a girl 
was riding it. She came at a rapid “ lope ” up 
the street and stopped at Levi’s. Not every 
one would have called her handsome, but to the 
few who could feel her beauty, she was wonder- 
fully so. She was a dark-haired girl, slim as a 
palm-tree, with soft, large eyes and a white, low 
forehead. For the rest, she was a woman with 


Magnolia. 


261 


vigorous griefs and joys ; a woman of the day- 
time, capable of a great love, ready to do and to 
bear. 

“ Oh, Jack !” she cried, and her clear, pale 
cheeks flooded with crimson. “ Oh, Jack ! 
Texas has left the Union. Tony came home 
this morning. He was in Austin, and saw the 
Ordinance of Secession passed. It was passed 
at ten o’clock at night, and the streets were 
crowded until daylight. You must raise a com- 
pany here — of our own men — at once — to- 
day !” 

“ If you are set on that, Magnolia, of course, 
I ’ll do my part. I ’d rather shoot Indians on 
general principles than white men, but I ’ll be 
on hand — you bet I will, if there’s any fighting 
to be done.” 

Cachise appeared to be untying his mustang, 
but he had heard every word, and the next mo- 
ment, with limbs encircling his horse and head 
bent forward nearly to the animal’s neck, he was 
riding away at his utmost speed. 


262 


Magnolia. 


Jack Hayes watched him with an uncomfort- 
able feeling. 

“ That dog-goned spy is off to the Pass.* He ’s 
got eyes and ears all round his head. If I could 
raise the men to-day, surprising them is out of 
the question now.” 

Magnolia alighted and went into the store. 
Hayes walked up to the group of Texans. 

“ Gentlemen, we must get the boys together. 
Texas has gone into the quarrel, and we must 
help our own side now. It won’t do to have 
them fellows from the Pass come down on us 
suddent-like.” 

The news moved them like a rifle-shot at mid- 
night. In a moment they were alert, vigilant, 
ready and eager to face the occasion. While 
they were talking, Levi had advanced the price 
of all his goods twenty-per cent., and if Magnolia 
had counted her change, she would have discov- 
ered that she had been made to pay well for the 
news she had brought. But she was thinking 
of other things — her father, her lover, her two 


Magnolia . 


263 


brothers, and the beautiful State whose honor 
was so dear to her. For she, like all Texan 
women, had felt keenly the long delay of Texas 
in joining the Confederacy, and had been unable 
to understand or to bear patiently the prudence 
of men who hoped and hesitated and delayed. 
Indeed, at this time every family was divided 
against itself. The women had embraced the 
Southern cause with a passionate enthusiasm ; 
their husbands, brothers and sons were swayed 
by conflicting considerations, so that, before the 
men had put on the unfortunate “gray,” the 
war was on their own hearthstones. 

When Magnolia mounted again, Hayes rode 
beside he'r. He had much to say, but the glow 
which had made him feel speaking possible at 
that time vanished ere they had left Fair 
Play behind them. She had pulled her white 
linen sun-bonnet far over her face, and the speed 
at which she rode precluded conversation. But 
when they were within sight of the Bowie 
Ranch, he leaned forward and touched her hand. 


264 


Magnolia . 


“Magnolia?” 

“Jack ?” 

“ If I raise a company and fight for the Con- 
federacy, what reward shall I have ?” 

“ What reward does a man want for fighting 
for his mother State?” 

“ Will you love me, Magnolia? That is what 
I mean.” 

She reined in her pony and stood quite still 
among the knee-deep grass and flowers. With 
all her soul in her eyes she looked steadfastly at 
him a few moments, and then bending forward, 
she put her hands in his hands and kissed him. 
Hayes was deeply moved. 

“ I belong to you and to Texas from this hour,” 
he answered. 

“ Dear Jack, I knew I could trust you when 
the hour came. Now say good-by, for father 
is in one of his bad ways. He won’t want to see 
you.” 

Hayes went back to Fair Play full of a new 
happiness and a new purpose. He had chosen 


Magnolia . 


265 


his side, and with the choice had come the en- 
thusiasm of a partisan. Without being very 
clear as to the various items of the quarrel, he 
had espoused it for life or death. The woman 
he loved had kissed him, and though he under- 
stood that the kiss was as much a consecration 
of him to his State as a token of personal affec- 
tion, he knew that Magnolia meant it as a con- 
ditional promise. The elevation of the moment 
remained with him. He stood upon a little hill 
to see old Earth laugh and leap as if she was 
young again ; his heart warmed to the beautiful 
land, and he touched the pistols in his belt and 
silently vowed to do his duty. 

But the warm splendor which had for a few 
moments almost transfigured Magnolia’s face 
left it as she left her lover. A thoughtful, 
anxious expression took its place— a look not quite 
devoid of anger. Uncertainty walked on both 
sides of her. She could not tell which side her 
father and elder brother would espouse, nor yet 
how the war which must follow the action of 


266 


Magnolia. 


Texas would alter her own life. It was possible 
the Rio Grande territory might become a great 
battle-field again, and if so, it would be traversed 
by hostile armies, by Indians, Mexicans, run- 
away negroes and thieves of every description, 
and would scarcely be a place for any woman to 
dwell in. 

She looked with a new interest at the home 
she might soon have to abandon — a spreading, 
two-story mansion built of wood and painted 
white. Both stories had wide verandas, festooned 
everywhere with vines, which threw a flowery 
mantle over all architectural deformities. In 
Magnolia’s eyes it was beautiful. She walked 
her pony through the grove of mulberries by 
which it was approached, purposely keeping in 
the sunlight which sifted down through the 
leaves, for she loved warmth and dreaded the 
chill of shadow. 

The shadow was on the threshold when she 
crossed it. The elder Bowie and his son Tony 
sat just within the open door, Bowie half sleep- 


Magnolia. 


267 


ing and half musing, with his Mexican hat 
drawn over his brows. Tony was idly pulling 
the ears of a sad-eyed hound, which gave vent 
to his disapproval in long, melancholy cries. 
She took off her sun-bonnet and turned and 
faced them. 

“ Father, you and Tony will be expected at 
the court-house this evening. The meeting 
opens at seven o’clock. Colonel Erath said they 
wished you to take the chair.” 

“ I am mighty sure I sha’ n’t show up there. 
What in thunder do they want me for?” 

“You know what they want you for, father, 
after the news which Tony brought this morn- 
ing. Texas expects every man now to be 
ready.” 

“ Texas expects a long sight more than she ’ll 
be likely to get, then.” 

“ You will surely go, father?” 

“ Not a foot. I ain’t ready to hang my ideas 
out in public yet.” 

“ You will go, Tony ?” 


268 


Magnolia . 


“ Not much ! There ’s no throw-off in me, 
but these fellows are only playing a game of 
bluff.” 

“You will find that they are very much in 
earnest.” 

“Then,” said Bowie, passionately, “so much 
the worse for them and for us and for every- 
body. They ’ll get an almighty whipping ; and 
that ’s all they ’ll get.” 

“ When men fight for liberty, father, they 
always win.” 

“ Do they ? Now, Magnolia, I want none of 
your top-lofty talk.” Then he rose, and carried 
his chair into a shady corner of the veranda. 
Tony sat still. Magnolia stood looking at him. 
He ought to have been a very handsome man, 
but he was not. His fine features were scarred 
with old cuts. His dark eyes, deep-set and 
wicked. His belt was garnished with pistols 
and a bowie-knife, and he had a trick of carry- 
ing his hand in the bosom of his vest, where his 
derringer lay ready. 


Magnolia. 


269 


“ Tony, which side are you going to take?” 

“ My own. I ain’t very partic’lar whether I 
go North or South. If I only knew which way 
our Rex and Jack Hayes were for, I ’d take the 
other way, you bet.” 

“ How can you be so wicked ?” 

“ It ’s not very hard to do. Say now, you 
never mind what a lot of fools are doing. Have 
my saddle-bags got ready ; I ’m going away 
again.” 

She longed to know where he was going, but 
Tony was not the man to tell any one the thing 
they asked him. She took her sewing into the 
wide hall, and was soon as busy with it as if 
there were no men mustering for battle around 
her. The gulf breeze, blowing unchecked 
through it, fluttered her white dress and tossed 
about the stray curls which had escaped the silk 
net in which they had been confined. And 
Tony noticed her beauty, with a vague feeling 
of pleasure in the brotherly proprietorship he 
had in it. She was humming “ Dixie,” making 


Magnolia . 


270 


her chair rock to the cheerful rhythm, and 
though the melody annoyed him, he concluded 
to let her sing it out, indemnifying himself by 
whistling “ The Star-Spangled Banner ” in a 
peculiarly demonstrative manner, as he carried 
his chair beside his father’s on the veranda. 

They soon fell into an engrossing conversa- 
tion, and Magnolia heard enough to understand 
that a United States man-of-war was expected 
at Indianola, to take from Texas all United 
States soldiers who remained faithful to their 
flag. She knew this was important information, 
and ought to be made known to them at Fair 
Play. If her brother Rex would only come ! 
For, though without any definite knowledge of 
his movements, she was quite sure that he had 
joined the Confederate cause. She knew his 
heart by her own. When Tony passed her 
again, she asked him : 

“ When did you leave Rex ?” 

“ I don’t carry Rex Bowie at my belt, Mag- 
nolia. When I saw him last he was in San 


Magnolia . 


271 


Antonio, making a fool of himself. Rex has a 
faculty for joining losing things. If he has gone 
with the South, the Yankees will win ; I ’ll bet 
my last dollar on that !” 

“You are always betting — and losing, Tony.” 

He laughed — a silent laugh, which in no way 
brightened his dark face ; and then he called 
for his horse, and rode toward the river. She 
looked after him with a kind of horror and dis- 
like. It seemed a thing monstrous and incred- 
ible to her that a man born in Texas should 
help the enemy with whom she was at war. A 
feeling of angry shame made her tingle from 
head to foot. If every one in the house should 
turn recreant, she was still determined to fight 
with such weapons as a woman may fight with. 
It was evidently her duty to go to Fair Play ; 
prompt action was necessary, and the men there 
would know how to take it. 

She went to her room early. It was one of 
those still, warm nights when nature seems to be 
asleep. Every twig and blade of grass might have 


272 


Magnolia . 


been cut out of stone — a speechless, motionless 
world, lighted up with such a flood of moonshine 
as would have been uncanny were it not for 
the passionate soliloquies of the mocking-bird. 
Footsteps on such a night are easily heard ; but 
Magnolia was aware of nothing, until the Indian 
Cachise pushed aside the jasmine vine at her 
window, and laid a slip of paper on the sill. 

His appearance startled her, but he laid his 
hand across his mouth, and she understood at 
once that silence was necessary. She took the 
message into the broader moonlight, and easily 
read it. Her heart beat gladly ; it was from her 
brother Rex ; he was waiting to see her. She 
gave C&chise a written message, and then it 
struck her to wonder how he had reached the 
upper balcony — the doors being all locked. Ere 
she could take in the thought, Cachise had slid 
down one of the vine-covered pillars. He made 
no more noise than a bird, and was out of sight 
as soon as he reached the ground. 

In half an hour she was in her brother’s arms. 


Magnolia . 


2 73 


“ Ah, Rex !” she whispered, as they wandered 
farther into the shade of the avenue. “ Dear 
Rex, how proud I am of this !” and she touched 
the gray uniform and the sword at his side. 
“ Why are you here in it ?” 

“ I am ordered to surprise Nigrita Fort, if pos- 
sible. My men are resting a mile away. I 
wanted to see you, and Cachise happened to 
come into camp.” 

“ Cachise cannot be trusted, Rex. As soon as 
he heard me speak of secession, he was off with 
the news to the fort. Did he turn back, I won- 
der ? Why is he here ?” 

“ He has probably met some Indian whom he 
could trust with the news, and has returned 
himself for further information. He offered to 
sell his services to our camp. He is false, of 
course.” 

“ Do you know that there is a man-of-war at 
Indianola waiting to take away the troops from 
Nigrita ?” 

“ Are you sure of that?” 


274 


Magnolia . 


“ Tony told father so ; and he has left home 
to-night. I really think he has gone to the fort 
with the information, in case the messenger 
from the ship fails to reach them, which is 
likely enough. What is that noise ?” 

It was a rapid footstep, and before either Rex 
or Magnolia could decide what to do, Colonel 
Bowie stood before his children. For a moment 
his passion made him dumb. He laid a heavy 
hand upon Magnolia, and turned her toward the 
house. She did not dare to remain within his 
sight, but she hid herself among the shrubbery 
and waited, in the hope of seeing her brother 
again. 

“What are you doing here, sir? And why 
did you not come into the house ? Oh-h-h ! I 
see!” he added, with a scornful . laugh, as he 
touched Rex’s uniform. “ So you are a full- 
grown rebel ! I reckon you were ashamed to be 
seen in daylight. What in thunder do you 
mean by it, sir ?” 

“ I mean to do my duty, father, to my country.” 


Magnolia. 


275 


“To your conceit and folly, you mean ; and a 
big jugful of both you have got. Now put out 
from here — quick ! And don’t show yourself on 
my premises again until you- come dressed like 
an honest man.” 

Then he walked straight to the place where 
Magnolia was hiding, and putting her arm 
through his own, took her into the house. Then 
he locked the door, and said : 

“ The next time you leave your home to talk 
with a rebel, you stay away forever, miss.” 

The events of that night decided whatever 
was undecided in every heart. Henceforward 
Bowie was a furious partisan of the North ; 
henceforward Magnolia was ready to give her 
life to the South. In the morning there was a 
short, angry conversation between father and 
daughter, which accurately defined this position. 

“ Rexford Bowie is a skulking rebel ! Why 
was he here in that dress? Did he tell you, 
Magnolia?” 

“ Yes.” 


2j6 


Magnolia . 


“ Well? Why don’t you speak?” 

“ I do not wish to.” 

“ Where is he going ? How many fools are 
with him ?” 

“ I have no right to tell.” 

“ Right or wrong, you had better tell me, I 
reckon.” 

“ I should be a traitor if I did. I will never 
be that.” 

“ See here, now ! I ’m going with the North, 
and Tony is going with the North, and I’ll have 
no Secesh on this place. If your brother Rex 
comes here again, I ’ll send him a prisoner to 
the next United States fort.” 

“ You ’ll have to send him North, then. I 
don’t believe there will be a United States fort 
in the State, no, nor in the whole South, many 
days longer.” 

“ Oh, I see ! He is gone to the fort, is he ? 
How many men had he with him ?” 

“ Tony and Cachise are spies. It is their place 
to find out.” 


Magnolia. 


2 77 


“ Look here, Magnolia ! You’re a woman, but 
don’t try me too far. As for Rex, I ’ve a long 
account to settle with him. He ’s gone ’bout 
long enough — the most contemptible fellow be- 
tween the Colorado and the Rio Grande !” 

“ Except Tony. And as for your account 
with Rex, father, you have always been settling 
it. I do wonder what makes you hate him so 
much ?” 

“ Sacristie /” he said, fiercely, and turned away 
with a still deeper oath. 

There are always more causes than one for 
any existing circumstances, and the reasons for 
Colonel Bowie’s dislike to his youngest son had 
their root in years long passed. When a very 
young man he had been guilty of some impru- 
dence which compelled him to leave England 
for awhile. He landed in New York just when 
the city was in a fever of enthusiasm regarding 
the war between Texas and Mexico, and when 
wild young spirits of all nations were eagerly 
enlisting in the Texas Brigade. When inde- 


Magnolia. 


* 7 * 

pendence had been won, he had no wish to leave 
the land for which he had fought. He married 
a beautiful woman, whom he loved with an 
adoring affection, and who died in giving birth 
to her second son, Rex. 

If the innocent child had been actively to 
blame, the father could hardly have disliked 
him more. For months he refused to see his 
face. Nothing in his growth pleased him. The 
boy resembled a brother of Bowie’s, a brother 
whom he thought himself to have just cause 
for hatred. Rex also had a nature which was a 
constant reproach to those who were not like- 
minded. He could not touch liquor ; he had no 
taste for gambling. He was a great favorite 
with men who disliked and feared his father and 
brother. If Tony went east with a drove of 
cattle, he generally picked up as many mav- 
ericks* as paid the expenses of the journey. If 
Rex were sent he would not see a maverick if it 
walked into his herd. In fact, he was a stray 


* Stray, unbranded young cattle. 


Magnolia. 


279 

soul, that, by the force of circumstances whose 
nature we cannot even suppose in this life, had 
found itself forced into a body and into material 
surroundings with which it had no sympathies. 

When once a feeling of dislike arises between 
those who should love one another, it grows with 
all it feeds upon. Rex, when a lad, could do 
nothing right ; when a man, his offenses were 
still deeper. And his brother’s antipathy was 
even more demonstrative than his father’s. 
When a family do not love one another, they 
soon learn to hate ; the being bound together 
does not, of itself, produce sympathy and affec- 
tion. Galley slaves are bound together in one 
interest, but do they love one another for that 
reason ? 

The action of Rex in the national quarrel had 
been expected. Both Bowie and Tony were 
sure Rex would take the least prudent way. He 
had one of those natures that easily fall in love 
with grand ideas and forget their own interests 
in a noble indiscretion. But Magnolia’s passion- 


28 o 


Magnolia. 


ate sympathy was unexpected. And they gave 
her no credit for any genuine patriotism. 

“ It was all Jack Hayes,” Tony said ; and Bowie 
believed it, and hated Hayes accordingly. If 
Hayes would have given him half an excuse for 
it, he would have “ dropped ” him with the very 
greatest pleasure. 

But he soon perceived that he was in an unpopu- 
lar position. Fair Play had endorsed, as a unit, 
the action of the State Legislature. The town 
was full 'of men sworn to the Confederacy, and 
who were very apt to argue with their rifles. 
His age and his past services procured him a 
cold tolerance, but Tony found it prudent to 
avoid the suspicious looks and scornful words 
that he could only answer in one way. 

Besides, the provost-marshal and the con- 
scripting officer were soon busy, and men could 
no longer halt between two opinions. Then 
Tony, with a score of men of his own character, 
fled to the head-waters of the Atascosa. He was 
by no means a coward ; fighting was as natural 


Magnolia. 


281 


as breathing- to him ; but he would fight only 
“ for his own hand ” and his own interests. 
North and South were equally indifferent to 
him. The war offered him a chance for a law- 
less, profitable life, and he was determined to 
make the most of it. He had never had clear 
ideas as to the ownership of cattle ; he per- 
ceived that the congregating of great bodies of 
men in the locality would make cattle of great 
value, and that turning stock into gold would 
be a most profitable business. 

His plans were soon organized, and the ranks 
of the company which he formed for this pur- 
pose were soon filled by men flying from their 
homes in order to avoid military service. From 
Eagle Pass to Brazos, Santiago, he had secret 
stations, and at these stations the cattle stolen 
from the Mexican side of the river were hidden 
and defended, until they could be turned into 
gold. His communication with his father was 
constant. Magnolia was aware of men, wild and 
unkempt, who stole in and out of the house, and 


282 


Magnolia. 


for whom, in Mr. Bowie’s room, there was always 
a meal of jerked beef and whisky. 

In the meantime, the transport lying at In- 
dianola had been taken and carried into Galves- 
ton harbor, and General Houston, amid jeers 
and hisses, had spoken his last words for the 
Union. Civil war, in its bitterest aspects, was 
over the land. There were thousands of fami- 
lies so divided that they would not eat at the 
same table, and such men as had not yet put on 
“ the gray ” were met wherever they turned by 
some woman’s scornful look or taunting word. 

As yet, nothing but success had followed the 
Confederate arms, and Magnolia went singing 
about the house in a tone of triumph. Yet war 
had brought her many deprivations. Their 
negro servants had all fled, and Bowie would buy 
no more, and the w r ork of the household fell 
heavily upon her. Gradually it became harder 
and harder. Candles, soap and other necessities 
that had always been bought, were now' to make, 
and with the rudest materials. Her strength 


Magnolia. 


283 


was taxed to its very utmost. She had no one 
to aid her with a kindly word, and no one with 
whom she could share her hopes and anxieties. 
For father and daughter seldom spoke, unless 
there was a report of disaster to the Confeder- 
ates, and then Bowie had no need to speak. She 
read it in his face and heard it in the chuckling 
laugh with which he lighted his pipe, in 
order to more satisfactorily ruminate on the 
news. 

At Levi’s store she occasionally heard of the 
movements of the two armies ; but the store, once 
so gay with its various life, was now lonely and 
still. The men who had filled the empty raw- 
hide chairs were on the battle-field ; and the 
chairs, piled up at the back of the store as use- 
less, spoke to her in a mournful manner. Occa- 
sionally one was occupied by a sick soldier, a 
man come back without an arm or leg, and hag- 
gard with privation and suffering ; or by some 
silent officer sent from the army on some special 
duty or message. From such sources she some- 


284 


Magnolia . 


times obtained the latest and, as time went on, 
the most disastrous news. 

One night, in a time of peculiar hopelessness, 
she sat musing in her room at midnight. She 
had already slept, and was refreshed and wake- 
ful. The night was still, and rather cold, and 
the casement was shut. Her mind was specially 
active. She was thinking of Rex and Jack, 
whom she believed to be in Arizona. Suddenly 
a trumpet blast seemed to fill all the spaces of 
earth and heaven — a blast of infinite sadness, that 
made her rise to her feet, with clasped hands 
and beating heart. It died gradually away, and 
was not repeated ; but as she stood listening 
with all her soul, she heard footsteps, and some 
one tapped at her door. 

“ Magnolia, it is I.” 

The voice was her father’s, but was strangely 
unlike his usual hard, somber tone. She lifted 
her lamp and opened the door. He stood look- 
ing at her, white and trembling. 

“ What is it, father ?” 


Magnolia. 


285 


“ Did you hear it?” 

44 Yes.” 

He staggered to a chair and sat down, mut- 
tering : 

“ Who blows it, that has found me out here ? 
Am I called ? What is going to happen?” 

She spoke to him in low, gentle words ; spoke 
of Him whom all powers obey ; but the mortal 
terrors marching and countermarching across 
the man’s soul she could not dispel. He sat 
speechless while the forgotten and the dead 
called him, and hardly heard his daughter’s 
words. At length he rose drearily and went to 
his own room. He was scarcely there, when 
Tony knocked for admittance. His father was 
unusually glad to see him. They had not met 
for months, and Tony’s influence was just what 
he needed to help him to fling off the uncanny 
tremor that was dominating him. 

Tony brought important news. Rex, with a 
body-guard of fifty men, was on his way to the 
capital on some special business, and the follow- 


286 


Magnolia . 


ing day would be likely to pass bis father’s 
house. Cachise had informed Tony that they 
were greatly in need of money, and Tony 
thought it likely they would levy a contribution 
on the rich ranchmen and planters on their 
route. Bowie was known to have made a great 
deal of money by the sale of cattle and cotton, 
and Tony advised him to divide and conceal it 
in several different places. 

Bowie was easily alarmed where his gold was 
concerned. He confessed to having a large sum in 
the secret drawer of his desk, and a still greater 
sum hidden about the house. Tony suggested 
that the latter should be hidden under different 
trees in the neighborhood, and Bowie promised 
to attend to the matter at break of day. During 
the conversation, there was the usual consump- 
tion of beef and whisky, and gradually Bowie 
threw off the influence of that weird midnight 
blast. He said nothing of it to Tony ; he had 
no mind to meet his scornful incredulity ; and, 
indeed, as daylight came on, he began to 


Magnolia . 


28 7 


feel half ashamed of his own superstitious 
terror. 

As Tony rode away in the dawning-, he met 
Cachise ; and suddenly a devilish plot entered 
into his mind. As he unfolded it to the Indian, 
the latter felt a grim enjoyment. White men 
plotting against one another was a special treat 
to him ; he was quite ready to assist Tony ; the 
more so as his promises of reward were liberal. 

As for Bowie, he was wretched as soon as his 
son was gone. His gold lay upon his soul ; and 
his soul trembled through all its secret places. 
He spent the day in wandering about his gar- 
den, carefully carrying out Tony’s instructions. 
He did not tell Magnolia that Rex was in the 
neighborhood. He thought it very likely that 
Rex would call upon him, and demand, in the 
name of the Confederate Government, either 
gold or stock. The thing was common enough. 
Frequently passing troops had compelled him to 
give them fresh horses, leaving their jaded ones 
in their places. He had been assessed in various 


288 


Magnolia. 


large sums for the arming of men specially de- 
fending his own frontier. He was prepared for 
Rex’s demand, and determined to resist it. 

He said nothing to Magnolia ; for gradually, 
during the last three years, the girl had become 
his master. Her moral purity, and the unselfish 
elevation of her motives disconcerted and 
humiliated him. He had long found it impossi- 
ble to cow her with brutal words ; the slave of 
his own vices, he unconsciously bowed before 
the girl who had risen above herself. 

Before leaving him the next night, she stood 
at his side a moment, and asked : 

“ Do you feel better, father ?” 

He knew what she meant, but he would 
not permit himself to open such a subject 
again. 

“ I ’m well enough,” he answered ; and then 
he stooped and shook the ashes out of his pipe, 
in order to hide his changing face from the clear 
eyes reading it. If he had only known ! It was 
the last appeal of his angel, and when Magnolia 


Magnolia. 


289 


turned away with a sigh, the place was ready 
for the evil that was to come to him. 

But Bowie was watching his gold ; every care 
was lost in that one. That the day was over 
did not release him from anxiety ; he had been 
called during the night often to answer the 
requisitions of marching troops. Yet when he 
reached his room he was sufficiently under the 
terror of the previous night to look at the length 
of his candle, and to resolve to keep it burning. 
It was only a home-made tallow-dip, with a wick 
of twisted cotton through it, but it made a dim 
light in the large, bare, shadowy room. 

He did not undress. He lay down upon his 
bed to watch. At first the numberless insects and 
moths annoyed him. There was one large moth 
of the species called “ Death’s Head,” which did 
so particularly. It flew round and round the 
flame, and never seemed to receive any injury. 
He could not rid himself of the idea that it was 
watching him maliciously with its uncanny, pro- 
tuberant eyes. He rose as softly as if some 


290 


Magnolia . 


one was to be deceived by his movements, and 
put the candle inside the glass lantern. Still 
the creature darted at it with a kind of fierce 
persistence that became unendurable. He got 
up again, now quite determined to kill it ; but 
the creature always eluded him. The chase, 
trivial as it was, became a thing of positive ne- 
cessity to him. He had shot many an Indian 
without feeling such hatred as he felt toward 
the irritating insect. 

Suddenly a noise in the garden attracted his 
attention. He lay softly down, trembling all 
over with a new apprehension. The noise con- 
tinued at intervals. It was stealthy and uncer- 
tain, but he was sure that it was a human foot- 
step. He thought first of Cachise, and was im- 
mediately on the alert. There was no better 
Indian fighter than Bowie, and with the thought 
came a vigilance of every sense, which defied 
surprise. 

His bed was in the northwest corner of the 
room, and quite in shadow ; his desk, contain- 


Magnolia. 


291 


in g precious gold, in the southeast corner. The 
light fell feebly upon the mass of dark wood ; 
but a shot from where he watched would reach 
any one tampering with it with telling effect. 

Very soon that strange consciousness of a 
human presence was upon him, and a figure 
swung itself lightly from the balcony through 
the open window. Bowie grasped his pistol 
with a firm hand and a thrill of devilish joy. 
For there was light enough to see that the figure 
was in Confederate gray, and the gleaming of 
the gold below the shoulder was proof that the 
wearer was an officer. He thought it was Rex 
at the first glance ; at the second, he had no 
doubt of it. The desk stood wide open, the 
pigeon-holes full of neatly-docketed papers. He 
imagined that it gave to it an innocently poor 
look, and rendered more safe the treasure hid- 
den behind its ostentatious frankness. 

But if it was Rex, the trick would not avail, 
for he knew the secret of the spring. As he ex- 
pected, there was no hesitation ; the hands went 


292 


Magnolia. 


at once for tlie hidden drawer. The money 
was tied up in rolls of gold pieces, one hundred 
dollars in a roll. He let the robber put three 
in his pocket, the fourth was in the act of trans- 
fer. He could endure the angry strain of his 
passions no longer, and he fired. 

The shot cut the still air with a reverberating 
sound, and ere it had ceased, Bowie was aware 
of the same trumpet blast that he had heard the 
previous night, only infinitely more sad and 
wailing, and far away — a very shadow of sound, 
yet thrilling all his soul with a dreadful fear. 
He leaped to his feet, and at the same moment 
Magnolia stood within the door. Her very lips 
were blanched, her whole attitude that of ex- 
treme horror. Ere he could realize her pres- 
ence, her hand was on the pistol, and she had 
gasped out : 

“ Father, father ! What have you done ?” 

“ Rex — was robbing me ! I have shot him !” 

Not for a moment did she believe the accusa- 
tion ; but turning toward the figure, she noticed 


Magnolia. 


2 93 


the gray uniform. With hurried steps, she ap- 
proached it. The robber had fallen partly upon 
his face. She stooped and gently turned him. 
A last excruciating throe of pain forced an oath 
from the bloody lips, and Magnolia knew the 
voice. There was little need for the shocked 
girl to fetch a candle and cast its sickly glare 
upon the fast-setting face. Bowie advanced 
with her, and forced himself to look upon it — 
the face of his eldest son, his beloved and 
trusted Tony ! Their eyes met in one short, 
awful glance of everything that was unavailing. 

Magnolia, leaving the dead and living to- 
gether, went to the quarters to call two Mexican 
peons who slept there. As she came back, she 
saw Cachise leaning against a tree. He must 
have heard the pistol, and at a motion from 
Magnolia, he followed her. When they entered 
the death-room, Bowie had stripped the gray 
uniform from his son, and laid him upon his 
bed. The clothes lay in a pool of blood by the 
plundered desk. He pointed them out to Cachise, 


294 


Magnolia. 


but remembering the gold in the pocket, went 
and removed it. 

The Indian comprehended all, and there 
was a flicker of pleasure in his gleaming, black 
eyes. But when he saw Bowie removing the 
gold, he laid his hand on the coat with an inten- 
tion not to be mistaken. 

“ Mine,” he said ; “ all mine ; clothes and gold 
too !” 

The men would have settled their dispute 
with the knife but for Magnolia. She finally 
induced him to give up the bloody garments, 
for he was almost exhausted with emotion, and 
the Indian’s explanation of the affair was the 
last blow he was able to endure. 

Cachise said he had stolen the uniform from 
Rex Bowie for Tony to commit the robbery in. 
He calculated on accomplishing the deed with- 
out disturbing his father, who usually, in the 
early part of the night, fell into the deep slum- 
ber common to tropical climates. Then the 
Confederate coat and cap were to be left beside 


Magnolia. 


295 


the rifled desk ; and Cachise would bear witness 
that he had seen Rex on the Bowie place that 
night' For this purpose he had spent the even- 
ing with the Mexicans ; and after they had fallen 
asleep, had patiently watched for his accomplice. 
He said he had been promised three hundred 
dollars for his assistance ; and when Bowie 
heard the amount, he groaned aloud. He had 
permitted Tony to take the three rolls which 
were the Indian’s price of blood ; but his son 
lay dead with the fourth in his hand. 

About noon the next day, the wretched father 
called for a cup of coffee, and then went out. In 
a few minutes Magnolia saw him directing the 
Mexicans in digging a grave under a large live- 
oak in the garden. When it was finished, they 
followed him to the room in which Tony’s body 
lay. Magnolia had washed the bloody face of 
the corpse, and folded decently around the dead 
man a fine serape saltillero. Bowie took his own 
hat from his head, and laid it upon the face that 
he would not look at again. The Mexicans had 


Magnolia. 


296 

lashed together some green branches for a bier, 
and they laid the corpse upon it. Bowie followed 
in a maze of horror and grief ; Magnolia w T alked 
beside him, and when the turf was packed tight 
over the dreadful mound, she took her father’s 
hand and led him back to the house. 

No man would blame him, but he blamed 
himself. He knew the murder that was in his 
heart, and the fiendish joy with which he had 
pulled the trigger when he had supposed it was 
Rex he was slaying. That last reproachful, re- 
morseful, despairing look in Tony’s eyes was 
ever before him. He sat hour after hour with 
his head in his hands, letting it work to mad- 
ness in his brain. 

And now came the hardest year of the strug- 
gle. Hope had fled. The Confederates were 
fighting their enemies with something of the 
despairing persistence with which a physician 
fights a cancer which he knows will in the end 
prove mortal. Fair Play was full of maimed 
and disappointed men ; the country was full of 


Magnolia. 


29 7 

desperate characters of all kinds. Property was 
at their mercy ; homes and lives were held at 
their will or pleasure. Magnolia lived in a con- 
stant fearful looking-for of robbery and fire, of 
murder and outrage, worse than death. 

She entreated her father to remove to San 
Antonio until the end came, and sometimes he 
promised to do so ; but the next hour he had 
forgotten the promise, and probably answered 
any allusion to it in language which made the 
heart-sick girl tremble. For it was evident that 
Reason was fast losing her dominion over the 
old man’s fierce passions and fierce despair. 
Political events had ceased to make any impres- 
sion upon him. He sat for hours with dropped 
eyes, speechless, motionless ; or he kept up until 
exhausted that monotonous to-and-fro walk 
which in some measure stupefies the vital ener- 
gies. Dead sleeps alternated with nights of 
frightful restlessness; silence, with passionate 
execrations. His eyes got a haunted look ; he 
had the face of a man driven by an irresistible 


298 


Magnolia. 


agony, and he was visited by volcanic moods, in 
which he was dangerous to approach. 

The end of it all came at last. One night in 
January, when there was a wet “ norther ” — a 
cold, bitterly cold night, when the cattle had 
fled to the timber and the wolves were howling 
with hunger, Magnolia awoke from a dead sleep 
with a sense of impending disaster. The wind 
sobbed and roared about the house, and the 
freezing, pitiless rain beat against the windows. 
To be out in these wet “ northers ” is a matter 
of life and death, and government and emigrant 
trains are often decimated by one, so fatal is 
the piercing severity of the wind. 

She threw a serape around her, hastened to the 
windows, and looked out, listening intently to 
every sound. Then she remembered how un- 
likely it was that any human being would be 
out during such freezing weather. She would 
go to bed and listen there. But it was impossi- 
ble for her to rest. Crying softly, partly with 
mental terror, partly with the real physical pain 


Magnolia . 


299 

induced by the cold, she went to her father’s 
door. Surely he would help her to make up 
fires, and watch with her through the remainder 
of the night. But she could not arouse him. 
Then a new terror seized her. She opened the 
door. The room was empty. Forgetting both 
her cold and fright, she sought him through the 
whole house, calling him in agonized tones as 
she fled from room to room. 

There was no answer. He was evidently not 
in the house, and she dared not venture out in 
such a storm. If she did, where should she 
seek him ? There was a moon, but still the night 
was dark, for there were heavy clouds, and it 
was only at intervals that she plunged wildly 
out from one billowy mass into another. She 
remembered that her father had constantly 
dwelt on the fact that just as Tony fell he had 
heard again the mysterious trumpet call. He 
declared that in his English home it had been 
blown at the castle gate for centuries whenever 
one of the family was near death, and he be- 


300 


Magnolia . 


lieved the second blast to be his own summons. 
He had asked himself over and over “ Who blew 
it,” and “ How they had found him out on that 
lonely, far-west prairie ?” 

Shivering even by the blazing cedar logs, she 
dressed herself, replenished the fire, and then 
walked, in her restless anxiety, to the window. 
Her eyes fell upon the live oak that over- 
shadowed Tony’s grave. Very rarely did she 
allow them to rest there, but at this moment the 
tossing tree fascinated -her. Its great branches 
waved and rocked and bowed, and appeared to 
beckon her in a horrible manner. As she gazed, 
the moon plunged out of a black cloud and 
shone full upon the tree. There was a long, 
black shadowy figure swaying with it. 

Quick as her terror and the cold wind would 
allow her to move, she tottered along the garden 
road, and although blown hither and thither, 
she reached at length the fateful tree. Her 
father was hanging from it. She drew the 
bowie-knife from his boot, and instantly cut the 


Magnolia. 


30 ! 


dangling rope; but it was far too late. The 
corpse was frozen hard. Cold and strangula- 
tion had sent the tortured soul, through rack and 
tempest, to its own place. 

She was at once aware of her position. To 
call the Mexicans was to let them know that she 
was alone and defenseless. Yet the poor, frozen 
wreck of humanity could not remain there, the 
sport of the winter storm. In after years, the 
memory of how she managed her terrible task 
grew partially clear to her ; but at the time of 
the ordeal, she was raised far above the material 
aids to it. When she had laid the body upon the 
dead man’s bed and covered it with the blanket 
which had been his protection on many a long, 
dangerous march, she locked the door and went 
to her own room. 

Crouching over the fire, praying, sobbing, 
suffering, she passed the lonely hours until day- 
light. The cold and wind moderated at sunrise, 
and, without a word to the peons, she rode into 
Fair Play. There were pitiful hearts there to 


302 


Magnolia. 


help her, and she was induced, when she had 
seen a party of men leave for the Bowie ranch, 
to submit herself to the imperative need of 
sleep and warmth. 

When she came to any sense of outward life 
again, the trees were budding, the birds sing- 
ing, and the warm sunsine flooding the renewed 
world with glory. The war was practically 
over. Rex was at the Bowie ranch, and Jack 
Hayes, with the last handful of men, fighting 
Colonel Branson at the mouth of the Rio 
Grande. But a month afterward, in the midst 
of a fight, the order came to “ cease firing.” 
The war was ended ; and Jack sheathed his 
sword forever in that quarrel. 

Exactly three years afterward, Magnolia was 
standing one evening at the door of her home, 
by the mystical Gila, looking down the Santa 
Cruz Valley, waving with wheat so rich and yel- 
low that it makes bread like gold. A stranger 
was sitting at the open door, a man who looked 
weary and discontented, and who talked to her 


Magnolia. 


303 


eagerly, often pointing to some papers which he 
held in his hands. 

Magnolia listened thoughtfully, and when she 
saw her husband coming, went to meet him. 

“Jack,” she said, “there is a stranger in the 
house ; a man from England. He has my 
grandfather’s will. It gives to my father or his 
children a great estate.” 

“ Then Rex will be going to England ?” 

“ Rex will not have it. He says his father 
won the Bowie lands with his rifle, and he will 
not leave Texas. He has written a surrender of 
his rights to me, if I choose to accept them.” 

“ Well, little woman, where is the hitch ?” 

“ My father’s cousin has been in possession 
for twenty-five years. Last year the lawyer 
who had had charge of the estate for half a cen- 
tury died ; and his son, in going through the 
papers of the firm, found the will. Its existence 
was not suspected before.” 

Jack examined carefully all the papers, and 
took down accurately the address of the cousin 


304 


Magnolia. 


who had been so long in possession of the 
estate. 

“ Now, wife,” he said, “ you may be a great 
lady in your own right, if you want to be one.” 

“ I would rather be the wife of Jack Hayes 
and live in the Santa Cruz Valley.” 

“ There, sir, you have your answer, I reckon. 
I ’ll just drop a line to Magnolia’s cousin and 
tell him he need be noways afraid of either Rex 
Bowie or Jack Hayes making any claim for the 
place he ’s been squatting on so long — long 
enough, I take it, to make his right good. If 
you’ll look down the valley and up the hills, 
stranger, as far as you can see, the land is mine 
and Magnolia’s ; and I ’m thinking there isn’t 
any to beat it in the whole wide world. We are 
contented and happy. Could we be better than 
that? No, sir ! So Magnolia and I, we ’ll just live 
and die in the Santa Cruz Valley, if so it please 
God to let us have such favor from Him !” 


r 



THE 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 


S my story is a true story, and as I am a 



matter-of-fact person, and like to have my 


localities correct, I shall have to introduce my 
readers to that quiet, homely portion of England 
called Norfolk. I wish I could have made it 
Wales, or the Scotch Highlands or the Lake 
District ; but the people I am going to write 
about lived in Norfolk, and I have neither 
power nor wish to separate them from their 
natural surroundings. 


[305] 


306 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


I may as well admit at once that the County 
of Norfolk is unknown to fame. Artists and 
summer tourists never go there ; and it has no 
subterranean wealth to enrich it on the fiendish 
condition of breathing an atmosphere of diluted 
soot and coal-dust. But it has compensations all 
its own — strange, haunting beauties, which, 
having once taken possession of any heart, fill 
it at intervals ever afterward with a sweet re- 
membrance that is almost homesickness. 

I can see to-day, as I saw thirty years ago, the 
great, wide stretches of level pasturages, dotted 
with rich farms and lonely windmills and low 
thatched cottages ; the marshes fringed with 
yellow and purple flags, standing up to their 
chins in water ; the great ditches intersecting 
them, white with water-lilies ; the high belts of 
natural turf, used instead of fences, and over all, 
for weeks together, a sunshine to which the 
white lights of the opera were shadows. 

The little market-town of Cradock was in the 
center of such a district — a very quiet little 


Romance of Cradock Manor . 307 


place, set, in the spring, in a white bower of 
almond, apple and plum blossoms ; in the 

autumn showing its few sunny streets flanked 

% 

by rich, fragrant orchards, and gay with flower- 
borders. But in spite of its Eden-like vistas, and 
of its indifference to the outside world, it escaped 
none of the trials of humanity ; for the things 
nearest to us touch us the most keenly, and the 
passions rise higher at domestic than at imperial 
tragedies. 

So the political troubles which were soon to 
deprive Louis Philippe of the throne of France 
did not cause Kitty Cradock any anxiety — she 
had far more important things to think about. 
There was Captain Montane going away, and 
Sir Charles Wickham coming, and sister Brida 
past finding out. 

All the long, sunny afternoon she sat hem- 
ming, with wonderful fine stitches, a piece of 
fine cambric, setting each stitch in a labyrinth 
of hopes and fears and anxieties. She had an 
opinion as to where Brida was, but she was far 


308 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


too honorable to watch her sister. If she should 
tell her, very good ; if not — She would not 
follow out this thought, but laid her work in the 
basket and began to dress for dinner. 

Presently there was a light footstep, a gentle 
rustle of sweeping robes, and Brida entered. A 
kind of radiance came in with her, came from 
her large, fair loveliness, from the glow in her 
eyes, from the fresh, sweet face that looked as 
if made out of a rose, and from the warm lights 
about her pale-golden hair. 

“Why, Brida, where have you been? You 
look almost transfigured.” 

“ Down the garden, Kitty — with the trans- 
figurer.” 

“ Captain Montane — eh ?” 

“You are a good diviner.” 

“ Is it wise ? Sir Charles may be here any 
hour.” 

“Is it delightful — is it enchanting? As for 
Sir Charles, I don’t think, Kitty, you need speak 
of disagreeable subjects until you are obliged to.” 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 309 


Kitty shrugged her shoulders, and looked 
half-admiringly and half-reprovingly at her 
sister. 

“ I do wish our family could fall in love sen- 
sibly.” 

“ Well, Kitty, that is a thing the Cradocks 
never have done, and never will do — it is their 
one redeeming point. Papa married in Italy — 
to please himself — did anybody know mamma ? 
I have heard she was a famous prirna donna, 
really on the stage,” said Brida, lowering her 
voice, and then laughing merrily. 

“And do you mean to please yourself and 
marry Captain — ?” 

“ Oh, Kitty, why do you ask such straightfor- 
ward questions? It is a dreadful habit, dear. 
It pleases me to live for the present twenty-four 
hours. To-morrow will be another day.” 

“ Have you thought about your dress for to- 
morrow ?” 

“ That, indeed, is one thing in advance that 
interests me. I have not a decent thing to wear. 


310 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


It is a shame of papa to ask company, and yet 
give us no money !” 

Brida’s handsome brows wrinkled ; there was 
a cumbrous old oaken chair near ; she drew it into 
the sunshine and sat down to think. Kitty 
went to the lattice and, throwing it open, stood 
looking with wistful eyes far over the garden, 
to the brown world and the placid waters of the 
“ broad.” 

“ No money ” — that was the skeleton of Crad- 
ock Hall. Yet it stood far away from the busy 
world, in the midst of a wonderful old garden, 
shady, sweet and still ; always earliest found in 
spring by birds and bees. It was encircled by 
fen and pasture-lands, and protected by miles 
and miles of creeks and cuts and “ deeks ” — it 
was Cradock Manor as far as one would care to 
walk in any direction. Yet, for all that, the 
want of money made itself seen and felt in every 
room of the gray old mansion, and in every 
heart within them. 

The causes were many, and far back; no one 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 31 1 


of the present family was wholly to blame. In 
all political changes they had had a faculty for 
backing the weakest side, and it was an old say- 
ing that “ the Cradocks married for liking, and 
not for luck.” 

The last squire had been a progressive man, 
but this family aberration had been rather a 
loss than a gain, for he had sunk large sums of 
money in the draining of his estate, and then 
died before the improvements had been put 
into returnable shape for a son who had no ap- 
titude of the same kind. 

Indeed, the present squire’s aptitudes lay in 
spending rather than in realizing. In his youth 
he had travelled, had his romance, and kept up 
the family tradition by marrying a beautiful 
Italian singer. 

This mesalliance was accepted by his father as 
inevitable destiny; he simply requested him 
not to bring the lady to England, and, as 
the lady had only married Squire Cradock 
on the condition of remaining in Italy, it had 


3 12 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 


been easy for him to please both father and 
wife. 

She died in Florence in the third year of their 
union. The older servants still remembered 
the return of the squire with his two daughters, 
and still spoke with a kind of wonder of the 
bitter mourning master had made for “ the 
foreign woman.” 

But ere long the deeper family traits asserted 
themselves. He settled down into the hospitable, 
hunting squire, and when his father died, and 
he became master of Cradock, adopted all the 
traditions of his caste. 

Among these traditions was the theory that 
the women of a county family were born thralls 
to its interest and convenience. If Squire Crad- 
ock had had a son, he would have grumblingly 
allowed the boy’s right to choose his own wife ; 
but it never entered his mind that his daughters 
might desire the same latitude. Neither did he 
take into consideration the admixture of quick 
Southern blood and the broader views of life 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 313 


which were theirs by the simple fact of the 
general advance in education and intelli- 
gence. 

So he made no ceremony in announcing to his 
daughter Brida the expected arrival of Sir 
Charles Wickham, and his desire that she would 
receive him as her lover. 

“ He does me too much honor, sir/’ said Brida, 
dropping angrily, one by one, the red currants 
she was eating upon her plate. 

“ We cannot afford to be humble, miss. You 
will now tell Mrs. Pearson to get the east rooms 
ready.” Then, with that final manner which is 
so embarrassing, he pushed away his chair and 
walked slowly out of the room. 

But Brida kept her place. She seemed to be 
only arranging red currants in all sorts of fan- 
tastic shapes, but she was in reality coming to 
the first great decision of her life. 

I suppose, in some occult way, the currants 
helped her, for she moved them hither and 
thither, sometimes thoughtfully, sometimes ir- 


314 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


ritably, until finally she pushed them slowly but 
decidedly away, saying, as she rose : 

“ I — will — not — do — it !” 

She had it all her own way with the currants ; 
Kitty was harder to manage. Kitty thought Sir 
Charles “ not at all bad.” He was rich, and “ we 
are so poor, Brida,” she said, dolefully, tapping 
with her foot the faded carpet of their room. 

“ Oh, dear, I wonder if it is wicked to be poor ! 
There is Louis, too, can’t do a thing he wants to 
do, just because he has nothing but his pay.” 

Kitty sighed, and went diligently on with her 
sewing. Brida lifted her hat and went thought- 
fully out. But she came in, as Kitty said, 
“ transfigured,” and with a light in her eyes, 
and a settled confidence in her manner that 
argued ill for Sir Charles’s suit. The question 
of dress brought her to the level of daily 
life. 

“ I do not want to look a fright, Kitty,” she 
said, after a think in the old oaken chair that 
had held so many Cradock beauties. 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 315 


“You. have plenty of white mull dresses, 
Brida, and white is always pretty.” 

“Yes, for you, who have such carnation 
cheeks, and such brown eyes, and such black 
hair ; but I need color. Now, if I had plenty of 
money, I would wear ravishing blue silks, and 
rich crimson velvets, and maize crapes, and sea- 
green lusters. I would perfume this pale-brown 
hair and dress it with flame-colored japonicas ; 
my throat and arms should gleam with gold, my 
feet be shod in satin.” 

“You can have all these things.” 

“ Yes, if I take Sir Charles with them ; but — 

“ 1 Wha would buy a silken gown 
Wi’ a poor, broken heart ? 

And what to me is high degree 
Gin frae my love I part?’ ” 

She had begun the plaintive little Scotch air 
in a trembling voice, but ere the four lines were 
finished, had risen to her feet and suffered her 
great emotion to interpret itself in a passionate, 
sobbing cadence that amazed and half-frightened 
Kitty. 


3 1 6 Ro 7 nance of Cradock Manor . 


“ Brida, dear — dear Brida ! Don’t sing in 
that way, please. Oh, what a wonderful voice ! 
See, you have made me cry, too.” 

“Yes, Kitty,” answered Brida, walking to the 
open lattice and looking dreamily into the 
horizon, “ it is a wonderful voice. It calls me 
in my heart, and I remember strange lives I 
never saw. Have I been somebody else, I 
wonder, or does the present project itself into 
the future ?” 

“ Dear Brida, don’t begin speculating when it 
is dinner-time. See, there is papa coming 
through the shrubbery, and I do believe that Sir 
Charles is with him ; or is it Captain Montane ?” 

“ Kitty Cradock, you ought to be ashamed of 
yourself. Does Louis Montane have straw- 
colored hair, and legs too long for his body? 
Does he need a cane in order to entertain his 
hands, or look on the ground when he could 
just as well look straight before him? That is 
Sir Charles, of course, and I hope I shall look 
^s ugly to-night as I feel/' 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 3 1 7 


Yet Brida’s first care, after this remark, was 
her personal appearance ; and if Kitty had been 
ill-natured, she might have said some ungener- 
ous things about the pains she took with it. For if 
she desired to look ugly, never had she looked 
more beautiful. Sir Charles had seen her in 
her riding-habit at various times ; but this white- 
robed beauty, with roses in her hand, was a de- 
licious astonishment to him. 

Before dinner was over, he had almost de- 
cided to release Cradock Manor entirely from 
the mortgage he held, rather than lose any 
chance of making Brida his wife. One song in 
the sweet evening gloaming decided him. He 
was very fond of music ; Brida’s voice overcame 
him — it was more enchanting than her beauty. 
He had never before felt so generous and so 
kindly. 

“ Squire,” he said, as they held each other’s 
hands in the “ good night ” courtesy, “ I feel 
how little I can do to show my sense of obliga- 
tion to you for your acceptance of my proposal ; 


3 1 8 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


but the day Miss Cradock is Lady Wickham, 
your manor will be free, as far as I am con- 
cerned.” 

Any one may imagine now the progress of 
events. Sir Charles went out riding and walk- 
ing with Brida, sauntered with her through the 
shady garden, held her basket while she gath- 
ered strawberries and cut flowers or hung en- 
tranced over the piano when she chose to sing. 

It would be foolish and unnatural to say that 
she found only annoyance in this companion- 
ship. No woman is indifferent to honest admir- 
ation ; besides, there was the piquant pleasure, 
when Captain Montane joined them, of satisfy- 
ing the real lover without arousing the suspi- 
cions of the rival. 

So little pleasure had come into Brida’s life, 
that even this uncertain current — leading her 
she knew not whither — was irresistible. 

As for Captain Montane, he kept his serene 
face and cheerful manners ; the baronet’s priv- 
ileges did not seem to annoy him. 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 3x9 


The squire was satisfied ; Kitty wondered. 
Neither of them knew that he had far dearer, 
sweeter privileges — short, secret meetings in 
hot, drowsy afternoons and early, dewy morn- 
ings ; confidences and assurances which, coming 
from Brida’s lips, he never doubted. 

He was certainly disappointed at the prospect 
of returning to duty without any recognized en- 
gagement, but it was evident that the squire’s 
approval would never be gained while Sir 
Charles persisted in his suit. However, nothing 
could shake Brida’s constancy — that he felt sure 
of ; and youth always hopes that “ things will 
be sure to come right at last.” 

Hope told him this flattering tale for at least 
two weeks— kept repeating it every hour until 
the very eve of his departure. There was a 
little gathering that night at Cradock Hall of 
the few families with whom he had become ac- 
quainted — Squire Diss and his wife and three 
pretty daughters, the stylish Miss Bashpoole, 
and a few young men of the better sort. Now, 


320 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


Squire Cradock was not a suspicious man, but a 
conversation he listened to between Brida and 
the latter young lady made him so. 

Miss Bashpoole, being an old playmate and 
girlish friend, had come early in the day, and, 
with the young ladies of Cradock, retired to a 
little parlor, long disused and seldom visited, 
for a good confidential talk. They did not re- 
member, nor did they know, that it looked into 
a part of the garden devoted by the squire to 
horticultural experiments, in which he took 
great interest. He had gone there that morn- 
ing to examine his tomato-plants — then rare 
enough in Norfolk to excuse his pride in them 
— and, being tired with stooping in the hot sun, 
sat down on a stone bench beneath the window, 
the lattice of which was open. 

He heard many things there which made him 
smile and plan little speeches to astonish the 
girls with his knowledge of their affairs. He 
heard Brida’s complaints of his stinginess about 
their dresses and pocket-money, Kitty’s ideas 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 321 


about the way in which women were generally 
“ kept down ” in Norfolk, and Miss Bashpoole’s 
frank opinions about her numerous lovers. 

Upon the whole, the old gentleman spent a 
very pleasant hour listening, and it never once 
entered his head to be ashamed of himself ; 
although, if it had been a party of men discuss- 
ing their bets and amours, he would have con- 
sidered it highly dishonourable to listen to their 
affairs. 

But listeners sooner or later hear something 
unpleasant, and he had his dream regarding 
Brida’s satisfaction with the destiny he had pro- 
vided for her rudely broken ; for at last he heard 
Miss Bashpoole say : 

“ How do you like Sir Charles, my dear, and 
when is the affair to come off ?” 

“ I do not like Sir Charles at all,” answered 
Brida, “ and the affair is never to come off !” 

“ Really ?" 

“ Really r 

“ Captain Montane — eh ?” 


322 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


“ Hush ! Fanny, dear, to-night you must do 
me a very great favour. When your carriage 
comes, you will prefer to walk home and take 
Sir Charles as your escort.” 

“ But have you considered, Brida, that I shall 
do my very best to captivate him ? I could not 
help it, dear — no, not if I was put under bonds 
for good behaviour !” 

“ I wish you would. If you don’t compare 
him with any other man, Fanny, he is not so 
very bad. He has been terribly heavy on my 
hands for two weeks ; will insist on taking 
things au grand serieux. That is one fault in 
stupid men. Another is, when you try to enter- 
tain them, they let you do it ; they actually be- 
lieve you feel all the interest in them you pre- 
tend to do, and never think they ought to try 
and amuse you a little.” 

“ Well, dear, I shall try and relieve you ; for 
my part, I think the lordship of Wickham man- 
tle large enough to cover a multitude of per- 
sonal imperfections.” Then there was some- 


Romance of Cradock Manor, 


323 


thing said, in a subdued tone, about Captain 
Montane ; for girls speak low when they are in 
earnest ; and the squire rose with his eyes flam- 
ing and his face flushed with anger, and a mut- 
tered assertion that “ women were beyond all 
trusting.” 

He kept Brida under surveillance all evening, 
and she astonished him a little more, for her be- 
haviour to Sir Charles defied suspicion. He 
began almost to doubt his own ears. But at 
last he noticed a very decided flirtation going 
on between pretty Fanny and the representa- 
tive of Wickham, and heard Brida encourage 
the vain young man by telling him that “ he 
was a dreadful flirt, and ought to be ashamed 
of himself for going about deceiving impress- 
ible girls like poor Fanny Bashpoole.” 

Of course, Sir Charles denied the accusation, 
but he was, nevertheless, immensely flattered 
that Brida believed him to be such a dangerous 
character. So, also, he felt himself bound in 
some measure to support it ; therefore he re- 


324 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


sponded readily to Miss Fanny’s advances, held 
her teacup, turned her music, walked with her 
on the esplanade, and, in fact, played back the 
card the two girls had shown him with an un- 
conscious simplicity charming to the fair plot- 
ters. 

When Miss Bashpoole’s carriage arrived, she 
obeyed Brida’s directions, and turning to Sir 
Charles, said “ he had been so delightfully en- 
tertaining, she was going to allow him to walk 
home with her. She would show him the sweet- 
est little lane, lined with wild roses and haunted 
by nightingales,” etc., etc. 

Sir Charles declared he “ needed no induce- 
ment but her company and the little conspir- 
ator actually bid Squire Cradock “good-by,” 
leaning on her victim’s arm. 

He wanted to tell her what he thought about 
her, but he could find nothing but straightfor- 
ward, blundering words, that he knew would be 
instantly demolished by . Fanny Bashpoole’s 
rapier-pointed sentences; so he only shook his 


Romance of Cradock Manor . 


325 


head at her in a way which made her wonder, 
for a second or two, “ whether he was falling in 
love with her, or whether he had taken an extra 
quantity of port that night.” 

But the squire was neither in love nor in 
wine ; he had been unusually sparing at dinner- 
time, and was considerably wider awake than he 
had been in the morning. He declined Captain 
Montane’s invitation to smoke, said he was tired, 
and bid Brida and Kitty “ go away and get their 
beauty sleep, as good English girls ought to do.” 
For these Norfolk squires believed then in early 
hours ; and before ten o’clock the house was so 
still that he heard the great clock in the kitchen 
answer the great clock in the hall. There was 
no noise in the garden, either, but a nightingale 
singing, in some leafy seclusion, his hymn of 
impassioned, impossible love. 

But the squire had learned that day to distrust 
appearances, and he determined to walk slowly 
down a little path winding all round the garden, 
and which was called the Hazel Lane, because 


Romance of Cradock Manor . 


planted on each side with those delicious nuts. 
There were seats and arbors all through this 
walk. Secluded and quiet, it was just the place 
for lovers, and there, as he had suspected, he 
found a pair. 

They did not attempt to evade him. 

“ I shall not run, Brida,” said the captain. 
“ I am doing nothing wrong ; and this explana- 
tion must come sooner or later.” 

Brida attempted to speak ; the squire would 
not listen to her, but ordered her home with 
such bitter words that Captain Montane angrily 
requested him “ to remember he was speaking 
to Miss Cradock, a lady whom he intended to 
make his wife.” 

“ Never ! I have promised her to Sir Charles 
Wickham, and, by George, she shall marry 
him 1” 

Quarrels are not pleasant things to write 
about ; this was a very angry one. Unpardon- 
able words were said on both sides. Captain 
Montane, however, asserted to the last his right 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 32 7 


to Brida’s hand, and, late as it was, left Cradock 
Hall to seek a bed in the village inn. His fur- 
lough was almost out, but he resolved to stay in 
Cradock until the last moment, for it sorely 
grieved him to be compelled to apparently de- 
sert Brida in this her strait. 

The next morning Kitty came alone to the 
breakfast table. Her sister, she said, “ was very 
sick and Kitty looked so mutinous that the 
squire, who was slightly afraid of her at times, 
found his plans complicating in a way that he 
did not like. A Frenchman or an Italian would 
have gone to counterplotting or intriguing, but 
it would have been a method as foreign to Squire 
Cradock’s nature as for a bull to adopt the tactics 
of a fox. He simply asked Sir Charles to take a 
walk, and told him the whole affair. 

The lover, who had imagined himself fully 
appreciated, was keenly mortified. He had 
always been jealous of his cousin Montane. He 
could not endure that he, of all others, should 
rob him of his wife. He had boasted to his 


328 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


friends, written letters to far and near describ- 
ing Brida’s wonderful beauty and the strange 
charm of her singing. He could not bear their 
inquiries and condolences. He had announced 
in his club his approaching marriage, and he 
could very well imagine what Townley, Vesey, 
and a lot of other fellows would have to say about 
his disappointment. No, indeed ! Whatever 
the result, Brida must become Lady Wickham. 

These thoughts passed rapidly through his 
mind as the squire spoke, so that his answer was 
really without hesitation. “ He thought too 
much importance had been placed on a very 
trifling affair ; young ladies always had a senti- 
mental attachment either to the clergy or the 
military — it never amounted to anything. He 
was quite sure that he possessed Brida’s heart, 
and really he could not much grudge his poor 
cousin Montane a few kind words to break his 
disappointment.” 

For one moment the fathomless complaisance 
of the young man struck Squire Cradock as con- 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 329.. 

temptible ; but the next he remembered the; 
lands of Wickham, and recognized the impossi- 
bility of any girl preferring a captain’s pay to 
them. As for personal considerations, he really 
thought it a species of indelicacy for a woman 
to have them. Both men agreed, however, that 
an early marriage was desirable, and both readily 
enough entered upon a discussion of the neces- 
sary settlements and business. 

Neither of them was sensible of any odour of 
human sacrifice in these brutal arrangements ; 
neither of them felt any pang of compunction 
for the victim of their selfishness. While their 
talk was of pounds sterling, and acres, and 
dower-house, Brida lay moaning in Kitty’s arms, 
and Louis, hurried by a special dispatch, was 
hastening southward to his troop. Poor fellow ! 
If Cradock Hall had been an empty grave, he 
could scarcely have turned his back on it with a 
sadder heart. Life had suddenly become to him 
a simple weight. 

Brida kept her room ; Kitty came to the table 


330 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


with red eyes and flushed cheeks ; Sir Charles 
indulged his geological tastes by watching the 
draining of a famous marsh on an adjoining es- 
tate ; the squire took an executive fit and rated 
the hostlers about their treatment of the hunters 
and the quantity of oats used. 

There was an uncomfortable, revolutionary 
feeling all through the house, and cook said : 

“ Drat the men ! They couldn’t even go a- 
courting without making everybody miserable.” 

When Brida, after a week’s seclusion, reap- 
peared, Sir Charles made her a formal offer of 
his hand. It was, both of them knew, a mere 
ceremony, like the rendering of a bill after a 
bargain has been made ; but still it was a neces- 
sary ceremony. 

Brida could find nothing objectionable in the 
manner of its performance ; he spoke with great 
delicacy and a great deal of earnestness. Her 
pallor and silence, and the mournful look in her 
eyes touched and yet irritated him ; but he had 
set his heart upon this woman, of all the women 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 


33i 


in the world, and he had been accustomed, for 
thirty years, to have whatsoever he set his heart 
upon. A habit thirty years old is hard to break. 
It even annoyed him that she asked for a day 
to consider his proposal, but he granted her re- 
quest as graciously as he could. 

Poor Brida ! She had one forlorn hope. Some- 
where, however, deep down in her father’s heart, 
there must be a memory of the woman he had 
once loved so passionately. If she could touch 
it, perhaps it might plead for her. At any 
rate, she owed it to Louis to make one effort. 
Kitty thought so, too. They watched for an 
opportunity all day, but none offered. The 
squire might have divined their intention, he 
so resolutely avoided all private talk with them. 

Kitty was almost too angry to say a civil 
“ good night.” Brida’s self-command broke 
down utterly when she reached her own room, 
and great tears dropped silently on the lintel of 
the window out of which she leaned. 

Brida’s tears hurt Kitty like wounds— every 


332 Romance of Cradock Manor. 

one a separate hurt. There were only five feet 
of Kitty Cradock, but there was not a weak spot 
in them. She was the soul of serene daring, 
generous and plucky, and very much accustomed 
personally to break all the laws she did not like. 

“ Don’t cry, Brida, darling ! I am going down 
to papa, and I shall make him give me a hear- 
ing.” 

She met the squire coming upstairs, with his 
candle in his hand. 

“ Papa,” said Kitty, “ will you please return to 
the parlour? I want to speak to you.” 

‘‘Too late to-night, Kitty. I suppose it is 
about Fanny Bashpoole’s party. I will give you 
money for new dresses to-morrow.” 

He tried to pass her with a smile and a shake 
of the head, but she held him with her eyes. 

“ It will be too late to-morrow, papa. I must 
speak with you to-night — now ! ” 

“ Kitty, you are a little torment. I ought to 
have broken your temper twenty years ago. I 
suppose I must go with you, or do without 


Romance of Cradock Manor . 


333 


sleep and the squire returned, grumbling, to 
the parlour. 

“ Well, miss, you will need a 'good excuse for 
your behaviour to-night.” 

“ I could not have a better, papa, than my sis- 
ter. I came to speak to you about Brida’s 
trouble.” 

“ Brida’s trouble ?” 

“ Yes — Sir Charles Wickham, you know.” 

“ I do not know ; and, what is more, I do not 
profess to know, any woman’s riddling.” 

“ Papa, I am a plain-speaking girl.” 

“ Deucedly so !” and he gave her a look which 
was a singular mixture of anger and admir- 
ation. 

% 

“ Well, I get that from you. I think it is one 
of my best points. The fact is, Sir Charles 
asked Brida to marry him, to-night.” 

“ I know. I gave him permission to do so. 
Brida will accept him.” 

“ I think not, sir. At least, if I was her, I 
would not.” 


334 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


“ Well, Kitty, if you will have the truth, here 
it is : Brida must marry Sir Charles. He holds 
a heavy mortgage on Cradock, and his is not 
the only one, either. Now, I have made ar- 
rangements with him which will enable me to 
leave Cradock a clear estate to you and Brida.” 

“ If I was a father, I would sell every acre 
of Cradock before I would sell my own child. 
You can strike me if you like, papa ; I am but 
a little bit of a creature.” 

“ Kitty, you are too bad. You provoke me to 
a quarrel, and then shelter yourself behind your 
weakness.” 

“ Papa, you ought to have some one to tell 
you the truth. Brida has no one but me to 
plead for her, unless, indeed, you remember 
Brida’s mother. She does not love Sir Charles, 
and she does love Captain Montane ; I think 
she has loved him since they were both chil- 
dren. It would break her heart to deceive him. 
If she marries Sir Charles, she may, perhaps, 
leave Cradock ; but she will live a great deal in 


Romance of Cradock Manor . 335 


London, and must be thrown continually into 
Louis’s society. Have you any right to lead her 
into such temptation ? Better a thousand times 
lose Cradock than lose honour and Brida. Those 
are my opinions, papa, and I do hope you will 
look at things in a more reasonable way.” 

She was leaving the room, but he called her 
back. 

“ Kitty, we will finish this discussion at once. 
Brida will marry Sir Charles Wickham in two 
months. Now go, and never dare to name this 
subject to me again.” 

“ Very well, sir. Whatever takes place, you 
will remember I was forbidden to speak to you 
on this subject.” 

The squire had no more idea of being afraid 
of her than of a ladybird or sparrow; but still, 
the expression of her face, its defiance and re- 
pressed indignation, startled him. 

She went back to her sister and tenderly 
kissed away the tears trembling on her eye- 
lids. 


336 Romance of Cradock Manor. 

“ Crying won’t help you now, Brida ; you must 
dare to do.” 

“ But what must I do, Kitty ?” 

“You have two alternatives. You must either 
marry Sir Charles or leave Cradock. Which will 
you do?” 

“ Leave Cradock, if I knew where to go to. 
Dear Kitty, this alternative is not strange to 
me. I could be a governess.” 

“ Nonsense ! Papa would find you out. If you 
-leave here, you must go to Italy and study — ” 

“ For the stage ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Oh, Kitty, how did you get at the bottom of 
my heart ?” 

“What height or depth is there, dear, that 
love cannot touch ?” 

“But the money?” 

“ I have thought of that. If they will not 
treat us like reasonable beings, we will show 
them we can be crafty ones. To-morrow morn- 
ing you must accept Sir Charles, and accede as 


Romance of Cradock Manor , 337 


cheerfully as possible to all papa’s arrange- 
ments. He will have to give us money- for your 
wardrobe, and I shall persuade him that only in 
London can we suitably provide what you need. 
Once there, our further course is plain enough. 
Only mind, if you begin this thing, Brida, you 
must go through with it.” 

Brida did not need to affirm. Kitty saw far 
more in her face than any words could have ex- 
plained. 

In the morning Sir Charles received a much 
kinder acceptance than he had hoped for, and 
the squire took Brida into his fullest favour 
again. He even joked Kitty about her unnec- 
cesary show of fight, and Kitty took her defeat 
amiably. 

Finding the squire in such a merry mood, she 
made a much more extravagant demand on his 
purse than she had originally intended. Her 
proposal, also, to fit out the future Lady Wick- 
ham in London met with a ready assent. The 
squire was glad enough for an excuse to visit 


338 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


the metropolitan stables and his old sporting 
haunts again. 

Then Kitty said that two months was short 
time for milliners and modistes , and they must 
leave Cradock at once. In some mysterious 
way the squire found money, and intrusted five 
hundred pounds to Kitty’s management. 

“ It is not much, Brida, darling, but I have 
read of women who have done wonders with 
less.” 

She pushed forward preparations with such 
dispatch that there was no time for useless re- 
grets or idle wishing. She would not even 
allow Brida the sentimental pleasure of taking 
a farewell of the shady haunts and still, old 
rooms of Cradock. 

“ Keep them in your heart with the mem- 
ories that belong to them, dear,” she said. 
“ Last looks are unfair ones.” 

So in less than a week they had changed the 
roomy stillness of Cradock for the bustle of a 
London hotel, and settled their daily routine. 


Romance of Craclock Manor. 339 


All breakfasted together ; then the bride’s 
trousseau was supposed to fully occupy the girls 
until four o’clock, after which they went riding 
with Sir Charles, in whose company they also 
spent the evenings. 

No one suspected these two innocent, dainty- 
looking girls of visiting the places they did — 
queer shipping-offices in dirty city streets, West 
End music conservatories — and one beautiful 
woman who spoke with a foreign accent, and 
kissed Brida when she heard her sing, and gave 
her letters to people whose addresses were 
Milan and Florence. 

“ Dear madam,” said Kitty, as they left her, 
“ you have done us a great favor. Will you 
make it greater by naming this interview to no 
one ?” 

“ Let that pass, little ones. I mind mine own 
affairs.” 

Yet she smiled knowingly to herself a few 
days afterward, when she read of the sudden 
disappearance of a beautiful and highly born 


34o Romance of Cradock Manor. 


English girl, the affianced bride of Sir Charles 
Wickham. 

The description of the distress of her father 
and lover seemed to give her an odd kind of sat- 
isfaction — “ because,” as she said to herself, 
“ no doubt they are brutes, and deserve it ;” but 
her face saddened immediately. “ They do not 
name the little one, the poor little sister ! Mary, 
comforter of desolate women, help her !” 

In the misery and excitement that followed 
the discovery of Brida’s flight, no one thought 
of blaming the real originator of it. Kitty had 
faithfully ordered dresses and bonnets, as well 
as made the more important arrangements. 
There was no proof that the days had not been 
spent in silk magazines and milliners’. 

Brida disappeared on a Saturday ; the night 
before the whole party had been together to a 
summer theatre, and had retired at a much later 
hour than usual. 

•Kitty did not appear to breakfast — “ she had 
a headache,” explained Brida ; and the squire 


Romance of Cradock Ma 7 ior. 341 


grumbled at the late hours, and said, “ No won- 
der/' and that “ Brida, too, looked pale and mis- 
erable, and quite unlike herself.” 

About noon Brida said that “ Kitty was still 
unable to rise, and she must go to Madame De- 
lamo’s about her travelling-suit, and would papa 
order a carriage ?” 

Papa did so, and said he would ride with her 
as far as the Carleton Club. She expressed only 
satisfaction, and ran upstairs to put on her bon- 
net. Then she locked the door, threw herself 
into her sister’s arms, and said : 

“ I must go now, darling ! Oh, Kitty ! Kitty ! 
Kitty!” 

Kitty could not speak. She put her hands on 
Brida’s shoulders, gazed longingly into the beau- 
tiful face, and then threw herself on her knees 
in passionate prayer. 

So Brida left her ! 

“ I am ready now, papa,” she said, and they 
entered the carriage. She left Squire Cradock 
at the club, and drove to Madame Delamo’s. 


342 Romance of Cradock Manor . 


“ You will go to Thornton’s for a package of 
books, and be here again in two hours.” 

The man touched his hat and drove away. 
Brida walked to the next street, hired a passing 
cab, and drove to the steamer in which her pas- 
sage was secured. 

Before any real alarm was felt, she was nearer 
the French than the English coast ; even then 
the alarm had no suspicion of the truth. 

The squire at once connected Brida’s disap- 
pearance with Louis Montane, and went in a 
towering passion to seek him at his rooms. He 
was on duty, had been on duty ever since he left 
Cradock, had not been out of the company of 
one or other of his brother-officers all day. 

His grief and astonishment were so genuine 
that the unhappy father could not doubt his in- 
nocence. Sir Charles offered large rewards, ran 
down to Cradock to cross-question Miss Bash- 
poole, haunted police-stations, and spent his 
days with detectives, until every hope died, and 
then he went abroad to hide his disappointment. 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 


Nothing remained for the squire and Kitty 
but to return to Cradock, which, in spite of its 
sweet, secluded beauty, rapidly became a very 
unhappy place. 

Things grew darker as winter came on, for 
Kitty was full of an anxiety there seemed no 
way of relieving. 

The post-office of Cradock was kept by an old 
woman whom the sisters had not dared to trust, 
and the only arrangement for correspondence 
they had been able to make was permission for 
Brida to address letters to the care of the lady 
they had visited in London. 

But the squire returned to Cradock before 
any letter was possible. Brida and London 
were two words he would not suffer to be named, 
nor would he admit any necessity for Kitty 
again visiting the metropolis. She might, in- 
deed, have written to Captain Montane, but she 
was jealous of her sister’s fair name, and knew 
that his interference would give rise to suspi- 
cions. Yet she fretted sorely at the suspense, 


344 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


and was sometimes, in her loneliness, inclined 
to accuse Brida of indifference to her affection. 

Squire Cradock had managed to preserve his 
anger at Brida, because something in Kitty’s 
manner the first year assured him that Kitty 
knew Brida was alive ; but as month after month 
passed, and another winter shut them up in 
Cradock Hall, he grew more and more miser- 
able. 

That indefinable expression on Kitty’s face, 
which had so long sustained him, had gradually 
faded out ; a hopeless pathos dimmed her bright 
beauty. She sat hour after hour silently sewing. 

In the second summer she asked permission 
to go with Fanny Bashpoole.to London for a 
week’s shopping. 

“ She was not well,” she said, “ and wished to 
see a good physician.” 

Whatever physician she saw certainly worked 
a miracle, for Kitty came back to Cradock the 
old, merry, scolding, bustling little woman. 
The squire looked earnestly at her, as if he ex- 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 


345 


pected news, but she only shook her head and 
kissed him with unusual tenderness. 

Somehow, he understood her to mean that 
Brida was dead. After this he was very gentle 
to everything and everyone associated with her 
memory. Kitty even saw him touch gently the 
little brown garden hat which she had worn. 

Another winter — long, rainy days, all the 
pleasant wold under water, the garden bare and 
brown, the Hall shabbier and shabbier, money 
more and more scarce, even the old generous 
table showing signs of fast-increasing poverty. 

Letters came frequently now, far too often, 
for .every letter meant trouble, and contained 
claims there was no possibility of satisfying. 

The long-dreaded day arrived at last. Crad- 
ock Manor was in the market for sale. All they 
could now hope was that it might realize enough 
to pay all claims, and leave them sufficient to 
live on in some continental town. 

One afternoon in the early spring Kitty saw 
a stranger trying to make his way from Cradock 


346 Romance of Cradock Manor , 


village to the Hall. He seemed well acquainted 
with the road, but ignorant that many paths safe 
in summer were dangerous at this season. 
Twice he had barely escaped from the treacher- 
ous moss. 

There were but four servants at the Hall now, 
and they were all old men and women. If she 
would do him any service, she must go herself 
and guide him. It was not a pleasant prospect 
to face the flying rain and damp cold, but she 
did it, and she got her reward. 

The stranger was Sir Charles Wickham ; he 
had taken the fen road expressly to draw her 
attention to his approach, and he looked so earn- 
estly in her face that she said, instantly : 

“ You have found Brida ?” 

“ I have.” 

“ Where is she ?” 

He took a paper from his pocket and pointed 
to a name on it — a name familiar to the whole 
civilized world. 

“ She and Brida are one.” 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 347 


Kitty’s face flushed and glowed. 

“Oh,” she cried, joyfully, “ I knew it — I knew 
it ! I am so happy !” 

All this time they had stood on the soft, spongy 
soil, with the rain smiting them on every 
side. Kitty’s hospitable little heart now 
saw it. 

“ Oh, dear, how wet you are ! Follow me ex- 
actly in my footsteps, and I will bring you to 
safe shelter.” 

When Kitty entered the sitting-room the 
squire was crouching over the fire with bent 
head and desponding attitude. 

“ Here is Sir Charles, father!” she cried, joy- 
fully. 

He leaped erect to his feet and stretched out 
both hands. 

It would be hard to express in words all the 
old man said to the young man in that grasp 
and in that inquiring look. But hospitality was 
his dominant feeling, even in his poverty. Till 
the traveller was dry and warm and refreshed, 


348 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


he would not name either Brida or the troubles 
that had gathered round Cradock. 

The chimneys were filled with dry logs, the 
table covered with whatever the farm-yard and 
cellar could yet afford. 

Kitty had not seen so happy a meal in Crad- 
ock for three years. The squire listened like a 
boy to Sir Charles’s travels and adventures, and 
when the old butler cleared away the dinner- 
table and left the party gathered with their nuts 
and wine round the blazing hearth, there was a 
tone in Kitty’s laugh and the squire’s hearty 
voice that the oaken rafters had long been 
strangers to. 

Suddenly a silence fell on the party ; Kitty 
saw Sir Charles put his hand in his pocket, and 
she stole to her father’s side. The squire, in- 
voluntarily affected by both movements, looked 
anxiously at his visitor. Sir Charles did the 
best thing possible — he plunged right into the 
subject. 

“Squire, my dear friend, I understand that 


Romance of Cradock Manor. 349 


Cradock is in the market for the paltry sum of 
six thousand pounds’ liabilities. The place is 
worth ten times as much. A friend — some one 
who loves you very, very dearly, sends you a 
check for ten thousand pounds.” 

The squire turned deathly pale, and Kitty 
softly stroked his hand and whispered : 

“ Courage, dear papa ; it is all right.” 

In a moment or two he said, with emotion : 

“ I have no friend capable of this magnificent 
generosity but yourself, Sir Charles.” 

“ But your daughter Brida, sir.” 

There was that in the baronet’s face which con- 
firmed better than any words this almost impos- 
sible hope. The squire knew that his child 
lived — more at present he could not take in ; in- 
deed, his next emotion was one of bitter anger 
at her. He blamed her for all the sorrow and 
care he had borne for the past three years ; and 
now that he knew she was within the reach of 
his wrath or of his forgiveness, he was well in- 
clined to hold out a little longer. But no one could 


350 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


so well have pleaded Brida’s cause as Sir 
Charles, for the squire allowed him to have also 
been greatly wronged by this rebellious woman ; 
and it weighed much with him that Sir Charles 
took all the blame on himself, and admired and 
absolved Brida. 

He told Brida’s story with wonderful pathos 
and power — her flight into Italy, her struggles 
and discouragements, and final triumph in her 
profession. He described her appearances in 
Milan and Paris and Vienna ; the crowds that 
waited on her ; the enormous sums she realized ; 
the spotless name she had preserved through 
all her temptations and fame. The old man, at 
first stern and impassive, soon began to be pro- 
foundly affected, to remember Brida’s mother 
and her triumphs, to compare the characters 
they assumed, and to criticise and discuss. For 
an hour or two he renewed the enthusiasms of 
his own youth. 

At last Kitty spoke — for a singular idea had 
taken possession of her : 


Romance of Cradock Manor . 351 


“ But this is not the end of your story, sir 
knight ; will you not tell us that your loyalty 
and devotion have been rewarded? Has not 
Brida learned your heart yet ?” 

“ Alas ! no, sweet Kitty ! Cousin Montane 
has had two pieces of good luck in one year. 
Last May he fell heir to the lands of Conyers, 
and next May, if Squire Cradock consents, he 
will win the loveliest woman and the rarest 
singer of her generation. I only hope for the 
honour of being his groomsman.” 

The squire protested and grumbled, but he 
could forgive the redeemer of Cradock Hall 
almost anything ; and no one finally entered 
more enthusiastically into its renovation for the 
bridal party than he did. 

Brida was brilliantly married in Paris. She 
said : 

“ It is not safe, Louis, dear, to trust our fate 
in Cradock Hall again — it is not lucky to 
lovers.” 

Nevertheless, Sir Charles Wickham denied 


352 Romance of Cradock Manor. 


and defied the superstition, and proved the wis- 
dom of his faith by carrying away from it, in 
the person of sweet Kitty Cradock, the fair- 
est bride that ever bore the name of Wick- 
ham. 




Polly Derenzy’s Brother. 


I HAVE before me a small portfolio of rough 
water-color sketches. They were done one 
happy summer, many a long year ago, in that 
charming spot, the Isle of Man. It is not with- 
out a tender memory that I turn over views of 
“ Castletown Bay,” “ Scarlet Rocks,” “ Rushen 
Castle,” etc. ; but I pause with a far deeper in- 
terest over a little scrap of tinted cartridge- 
paper holding the faded similitude of a wonder- 
fully beautiful girl’s face— lovely Polly Derenzy 

[ 353 ] 


354 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


— the bewitching daughter of an old Waterloo 
major. 

Castletown was then a little military place ; 
there was always a large garrison there, and it 
was a very favorite retreat of officers on half-pay. 
For this there were many reasons besides the 
delicious climate and picturesque country and 
people. The governor’s mansion was there and 
his petty court ; the House of Keys, or Manx 
Parliament ; and the garrison represented to 
them just enough of the old stately, stirring life 
of court and camp. They had reception days 
and parade days ; governor’s levees and military 
balls. The retired officers could still wear their 
uniforms, and discuss promotions and exchanges 
with the actual, acting part of her majesty’s de- 
fenders. 

Few of them were very rich, and a great num- 
ber had nothing but their pension ; but at this 
time Manxland paid no taxes, rents and provi- 
sions were incredibly low, and a sovereign went 
a long way. But Polly’s father was not only 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


355 


rich, but of the best blood in England. If there 
was any particular credit in being descended 
from one of the wild Norman freebooters who 
accompanied William on his successful filibus- 
tering expedition, then Major Augustus Rollo 
Derenzy had a right to claim it. And it is a 
fact — funny, though true — that he was prouder 
of this plundering ancestor than of his own 
brave deeds on many an Indian and European 
field. 

He had but two children — a son, who was a 
captain in a crack regiment, and a daughter, 
who was captain over the fussy, proud little 
major, in all his moods and tenses ; for he had 
never obeyed his general's commands more ab- 
solutely than he obeyed his Polly’s whims, and 
scarcely regarded his royal mistress as having 
a greater right to his chivalrous devotion than 
his pretty daughter. 

Now, although I am a woman, I have a habit 
of falling in love with pretty women, and I tum- 
bled, with all my five senses, head over heart in 


356 Polly Derenzy s Brother. 

love with Polly Derenzy the first time I saw 
her. I was sitting at the open window, watch- 
ing the drill of a new regiment on the Parade. 
She rode slowly past with her father, and then, 
returning, reined in her horse and stood talking 
to our group of ladies. 

The old major, with the courteous politeness 
of that day, alighted and stood bareheaded, with 
his funny little three-cornered hat in his hand ; 
but Polly sat her horse like a throne, and wore 
her beaver, with its long, drooping feathers, like 
a crown. 

As they stood chatting, the governor rode up 
with the new colonel. He was a fair, handsome 
fellow, one of the finest types of Saxon physique 
I ever saw ; his hair brown and curly, his eyes 
blue as a gentian bell, his color fresh and clear, 
and he was head and shoulders taller than any 
man in his regiment, and strong enough to 
“ throw ” the whole company in succession. 

He but glanced at Polly, and she but glanced 
at him, and the mischief was done. “ No sooner 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


357 


met but they looked ; no sooner looked but they 
loved and I think the major apprehended 
something of the danger, for in a moment all 
his pleasant railleries and courtesies were sus- 
pended for a proud politeness, distinctly flavored 
with pride of family and military fame. Still, 
as he mounted his horse to continue his ride 
with Polly, he asked the colonel to “call,” and 
Polly seconded the invitation with such a glance 
that I am quite sure any man would have 
“ called ” after it, even if the major’s house had 
been a fort which he must take single-handed. 

Then they rode slowly away, and we all 
watched them silently until the somber walls of 
Rushen Castle hid them from view. 

“ What a beautiful girl !” said old Governor 
Fitzhurst, with a sigh. 

“Yes, she is quite pretty,” replied Colonel 
Sutcliffe, with a drawl, which he thought an 
effectual disguise. But if he deceived the gov- 
ernor, he deceived no woman that was present. 
We all knew what havoc Polly’s eyes had made. 


353 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


In the meantime, father and daughter rode 
quietly on. Polly did not understand her father’s 
sudden reserve and coolness, and she said : 

“ Papa, I think you treated Colonel Sutcliffe 
very queerly.” 

“ Don’t say that, Polly. I am always polite.” 

“ I don’t mean that you were rude, papa ; but 
that you were not — well, cordial, for want of a 
better word.” 

“ Why should I be cordial ? I know nothing 
of these Sutcliffes — Saxon name. I must look 
up Debreth before I make a friend of him.” 

“Well, I, for one, don’t mean to ask Debreth 
whom I must like and whom I must visit. I 
might just as well ask him whom I might or 
might not marry.” 

“ Very proper, too, Polly. It is not to be sup- 
posed that you, whose pedigree occupies three 
whole pages of his peerage, will marry, for in- 
stance, some one whose family is not even named 
in it.” 

" I don’t see the position, papa. Debreth — 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


359 


whoever he may be — has not to live with my 
husband. I have ; evidently I am the person 
to decide on his family — and I mean to /” 

Major Derenzy did not approve of this senti- 
ment, but it was impossible to look into Polly’s 
radiant face and oppose her. 

“ Blood tells,” he said to himself. “ The 
Derenzys have had their own way for a thou- 
sand years, and here is this little girl of mine as 
positive and willful as — well, as myself.” 

The comparison soothed him, for he would 
rather Polly should be a faulty Derenzy than a 
miracle of grace and obedience without the 
family traits. 

“Well,” he said, “this Sutcliffe is not a bad- 
looking fellow, Polly ; we won’t quarrel about 
him.” 

“ Not bad-looking, papa ! Why, he is the 
handsomest man I ever saw !” 

“ I rather think he is Yorkshire or Cumber- 
land ; these Saxon men are all great, blond 
giants.” 


360 Polly Derenzy s Brother . 

“ And these Norman men are all little, fussy, 
fiery—” 

“ Heroes !” 

“ They say it.” 

“ Take care, Polly ; you hit home. You are 
pure Norman, without a Saxon stain.” 

“ All the worse for me. I should have had a 
decent complexion if our Norman ancestors had 
married some of the Saxon beauties they plun- 
dered.” 

“Do you want to quarrel, Polly?” 

“ I ’m not particular ; challenge me if you like, 
papa. I ’ll send for Captain Tom Derenzy to be 
my second. You’d look nice fighting your own 
daughter.” 

And the major lifted his hat to Captain Polly. 
She laughed merrily, and the two fell into a 
gallop which terminated in a race. 

The major won, and was standing, hat in 
hand, to receive his daughter. 

“ I beat you, Polly. I take it for a good 
omen,” he said, pleasantly. 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


361 


But it was an unfortunate remark. Polly im- 
mediately applied it to the dispute about Col- 
onel Sutcliffe, and, as she pettishly dashed her 
hat on a chair, muttered : 

“ If papa thinks I am going to treat Colonel 
Sutcliffe according to Debreth and Derenzy, he 
is mistaken. I have made up my mind to like 
him, and I shall like him in spite of — ” 

And Polly set her lips, and tossed her habit 
down in a manner expressing unlimited capa- 
bilities of resistance. 

She soon had an opportunity of exercising 
them. 

Major Derenzy quickly discovered that the 
Sutcliffes were essentially “plebeians.” They 
were Yorkshiremen, who had farmed the acres 
of Ripponden before the Saxon Harold lost the 
fatal battle of Hastings. They had been farmers 
ever since, until the advent of steam called 
them from the plow to the loom. Then they 
became manufacturers, built mills, made broad- 
cloths, and made money. An upright, down- 


3 62 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


right, thrifty, busy family, that had always 
known when to take Occasion by the hand. 

So while many a noble family had been grow- 
ing poor, they had been growing rich, and now 
Colonel Sutcliffe’s father was lord of a large 
estate, and had a seat in Parliament. But then 
William the Conqueror had not known them ; 
they had not fought with the Plantagenets, nor 
been enriched by the Tudors, nor quarreled for 
the Stuarts. They had simply worked for their 
living as farmers and manufacturers, and there 
was not a drop of patrician blood in them. 

“And the worst of it is, Polly,” said the 
major, who was detailing these things to his 
daughter, “ the young man does not seem to be 
at all sensible of his deficiency. When I spoke 
about the advantages of a good family, in an 
incidental kind of way, he said ‘ he was not at 
all sure about them ; that he knew families so 
good that they were good for nothing.’ ” 

Polly laughed a queer little laugh that might 
mean either assent or dissent, and just then a 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


363 


servant entered with a letter. The major read 
it, and went into a passion, tore it into twenty 
pieces, and flung it away from him. 

“ Papa, that is Tom’s writing ; I know it.” 

“ Yes, it is Tom’s writing — the scoundrel !” 

“ Papa, you have no business to call my 
brother such a name.” 

“ Then he has no business to act like one. He 
has got into debt and trouble, been arrested, 
and coolly writes to me for five b undred pounds.” 

“ Poor Tom ! He has been telling me ever so 
long that he could not live on his pay and your 
allowance. There is his chum, Rivers, has a 
clear income of twenty thousand pounds a year, 
and every one of the officers of his regiment is 
a rich man.” 

“ The first families in England, Polly ; that is 
why I bought his commission in that regiment.” 

“ But they all live extravagantly, and Tom is 
obliged to live like them. Poor fellow ! He is 
just ruined by such bad company.” 

“ Bad company, miss ! Do you know who you 


364 Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


are talking about? Every one of them is a 
nobleman/’ 

“ I don’t care. I call them bad company for 
our Tom ; and I call any company bad that 
causes a man to lead a shifty life, even if it was 
the royal family. There !” and Polly put down 
her foot and looked steadily in her father’s face* 

“ Are those some of Colonel Sutcliffe’s elegant 
sentiments, Polly?” 

“ Papa, Colonel Sutcliffe is my friend ; I don’t 
allow anybody to speak slightingly of him.” 

The major looked at her with a kind of angry 
admiration. 

“ Captain Polly,” he answered, giving her a 
military salute, “ I take it all back ; but what is 
to be done about Tom ?” 

“ Tom must have the money, of course. Tom 
is my one extravagance, and I like him to have 
whatever he wants. Don’t scold him either, 
papa — only ask him to come and see us ; for I 
declare I shall think his company for a month 
cheap at five hundred pounds.” 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 365 

So inverting the usual order of military disci- 
pline, the major obeyed his captain’s order, and 
Tom Derenzy, having paid his debts rather 
reluctantly, came to thank his sister for the 
money. 

All women must have their idol, and Tom 
was his sister’s idol. All her life long she had 
sacrificed her pocket-money, her time, her 
wishes to him ; all her life long she had liked 
whatever Tom liked, and indorsed all his dis- 
likes with a woman’s unreasonable antipathies. 

Tom had had a silent suspicion that he was 
being defrauded of part of his dues, and this, as 
much as gratitude, took him from London to 
Castletown. Polly had not written so often, 
and though he seldom answered her letters, he 
liked to get them ; or, at any rate, he did not 
wish anybody else to get them. 

Then, when she did write, she quoted Colonel 
Sutcliffe’s opinions in what he thought an osten- 
tatious, defying way. Nobody in “ his set ” 
knew the fellow ; he thought it might not be a 


Polly Derenzy's Brother . 


366 


bad idea to look after his pretty sister, who was 
also, in her own right, a very rich sister. So, 
also, it might be well to pay some attention to 
his father, who had it in his power to make him 
rich also. 

But the decision was an after-thought. He 
had written to say he could not come until 
Christmas, when he suddenly altered his mind, 
and followed his letter by the next mail. 

Consequently, he arrived without expecta- 
tion. No one was looking for him. The major 
was dining with the governor ; his sister was 
walking in the garden with Colonel Sutcliffe. 
He bit his lip when he heard it, and refused to 
have her called ; he would go himself and find 
her ; and the first glance he had of his sister 
and Colonel Sutcliffe convinced him they were 
lovers. 

For numerous reasons, none of which he took 
the trouble to define, Tom Derenzy hated at 
first sight the man his sister loved. His com- 
plexion and his inches both were an offense ; 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


3^7 


mentally, he disliked Sutcliffe’s calm, cool nerve 
and self-sufficiency ; they were the very an- 
tipodes of his own quick, nervous tempera- 
ment, and, when they came to know each 
other, there was a still greater moral antag- 
onism. 

If Polly had calculated on her brother’s in- 
fluence in reconciling her father to her choice, 
she soon found that she had made a great mis- 
take. Tom set himself heart and soul to defeat 
the match ; and Tom was one of those wise to 
do evil and not scrupulous about his means. 
For this purpose he flattered and humored and 
deferred to his father ; played upon all his old 
military prejudices ; and exaggerated the im- 
portance of “ good connections and the major 
easily believed opinions backed with such 
names as Earl Rivers or Lord de Grey. 

Polly, too, had a large private fortune through 
her mother, and it was not hard to make her 
father honestly believe that Colonel Sutcliffe 
was a mere fortune-hunter. 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


368 


“ Indeed, Tom,” he would say, after such a 
conversation, “ I believe you are right.” 

“ Of course I am. Can you imagine Miss 
Derenzy in lodgings and hotels and that sort of 
thing? Won’t do, father, at all; besides, the 
fellow is a prig, and thinks nobody knew any- 
thing about military tactics until his day.” 

“ What would you do, Tom ? Polly is dread- 
fully willful !” 

“All women are willful. You just tell Col- 
onel Sutcliffe, in a plain, gentlemanly way, that 
you do not want him to marry your daughter.” 

“ But he has not asked me for Polly yet, and 
one cannot refuse a man what he has not asked 
for.” 

“ No, the sneak ! He has come round steal- 
ing it !” 

“ Tom, let me advise you not to use that word 
about a gentleman, or you will get into 
trouble.” 

“ I ’ll use it, father, to whoever I think de- 
serves it and thenceforward, in a foolish bra- 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


3 6 9 


vado, Tom took occasion ’always to couple the 
adjective and the colonel together. 

It taught him a bad habit, and one day at the 

* 

dinner-table, during the temporary absence of 
the servant, he so far forgot his usual prudence 
as to indulge himself with the expletive in the 
presence of Polly. 

Before the word was well out of his mouth, 
Polly had thrown her goblet of water in his 
face. 

“ Coward !” she exclaimed. “ Go and call him 
that to his face !” 

“ Polly !” 

“ Papa !” 

“ Ask your brother’s pardon.” 

“ When he asks Colonel Sutcliffe’s pardon — 
not until — ” 

“ What is Colonel Sutcliffe to you ?” 

“ My intended husband.” 

“ Then, Miss Derenzy, you are no longer my 
sister.” 

“ Very well, Tom,” said Polly, in a choking 


370 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


voice. “ Remember you threw me off, not I you ; 
and when you want your sister again, I will for- 
give you.” 

“ Thank you ; I shall want you no more.” 

“ Tom, sir, your sister is your best friend. You 
cannot afford to lose her. It is to her you owe 
that last five hundred pounds.” 

“ Papa, I won’t buy Tom’s love — no, not if I 
could have it for a halfpenny !” and Polly went 
sobbing from the room. 

This quarrel brought matters to a crisis. 
Colonel Sutcliffe explained his position and ex- 
pectations to the major and asked his daughter’s 
hand. He was politely refused by the father, 
and proudly and tenderly accepted by the 
daughter. He had done what was right ; he 
had the best of it ; he could afford to grant 
Polly’s request and wait ; for, “ Papa is a rea- 
sonable creature, Harry,” she said ; “ and when 
Tom has gone back to his company will do all I 
ask him.” 

But Tom seemed to take an almost insane 


Polly Derenzy s Brother : 


371 


pleasure in feeding his hatred ; and hatred, like 
love, grows with what it feeds upon. He ob- 
tained an extended leave of absence, and used 
every hour of it in planning some annoyance to 
the lovers, or in public sneers and insinuations 
against Colonel Sutcliffe ; Colonel Sutcliffe was 
a brave man, and known to be so, and he could 
afford to let much of Tom’s insolence pass unno- 
ticed ; but some of his officers were not so wise. It 
pained and offended them that their colonel 
should patiently, or even contemptuously, sub- 
mit to impertinence ; and in those days, espe- 
cially among military men, it was considered a 
merit to be quick to take offense. 

Colonel Sutcliffe began to feel keenly the 
false position in which he was placed — it was 
hard even for Polly’s sake— and he began to beg 
her to put it out of Tom’s power to separate 
them by publicly ratifying her promise to be 
his wife. But Polly could not bear to* marry 
without her father by her side, and she believed 
that only a little patience was necessary. She 


372 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


had always had dreams of a grand wedding, and 
was also quite aware that her large property 
ought not to be carried from one state to the 
other without proper settlements and provisions. 

To do her lover justice, he had no care about 
Polly's money ; he loved her deeply, and would 
have been glad if she had only been some poor 
gentlewoman without family or fortune to em- 
barrass her affections. But he had to take the 
family and the fortune with the affection ; and, 
in the present state of his love affair, he found 
both an embarrassment. 

Polly made no secret of her engagement ; she 
walked and rode publicly with her lover, and 
being of age, the major did not feel called upon 
to interfere further ; especially as he had noth- 
ing to urge against the match but his son’s un- 
reasonable dislike. Tom’s visit had not proved 
worth the five hundred pounds Polly had paid 
for it. ’She was quite willing, indeed, to give 
him another five hundred pounds to go away 
again and leave her affairs to her own manage- 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


373 


ment ; but while she was contemplating- enter- 
ing into negotiations for that purpose, Tom, of 
his own accord, brought affairs to a crisis. 

One evening, at sunset, as she was slowly rid- 
ing on the sands with Harry Sutcliffe, Tom and 
his servant approached them. Tom rode furi- 
ously in between the lovers, and the servant 
took up a position on the other side of Polly. 

“ I will see Miss Derenzy home, Colonel Sut- 
cliffe,” said Tom, in an insolent manner. “Your 
escort is dispensed with.” 

“ I will not go with you, Tom,” Polly replied ; 
and being a fine horsewoman, she attempted to 
wheel round and escape her double escort. But 
her bridle had been seized on both sides, and 
without causing a public scandal, it was impos- 
sible to free herself. 

“ Harry — darling Harry !” she cried. “ Keep 
your temper, for my sake — for my sake ! Don’t 
speak! As sure as I live I will meet you at 
church to-morrow morning at ten o’clock. You 
1 know what for.” ^ * 


374 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


“ Till then, good-by, sweet Polly. I am deaf 
and dumb for your sweet sake.” 

This conversation, carried on above Tom’s 
brutal urging of the horses, was the last exas- 
peration. Accidentally, or in the heat of pas- 
sion, it mattered little which, he struck his 
sister instead of her horse. Polly was now be- 
yond speech ; she gave her brother a look which 
ought to have cut him worse than whipcord, 
rode quietly home, sought out her father, and 
falling, with passionate sobs and cries in his 
arms, told him the whole story. 

How he blazed ! You saw in a moment the 
little hero who had led the forlorn hope at Sala- 
manca, and cut his way through a division at 
Waterloo. He kissed Polly’s hands as if she 
had been a queen, and laid her with loving ten- 
derness upon the sofa. Then he rang the 
bell. 

“ Send Captain Derenzy’s servant here.” The 
man came, trembling. “You scoundrel ! Pack 
your master’s trunk and take it where you will, 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


375 


out of this house. I give you and him one hour 
to leave my premises forever. Go !” 

Then he opened his desk and wrote thus to 
Colonel Sutcliffe : 

“ Your brave, patient conduct has proven the wisdom of 
my daughter’s choice. I heartily endorse it, and if you will 
wait upon me to-morrow morning, we will discuss together 
the necessary arrangements.” 

Then he wrote a few bitter words to Tom, 
and, enclosing a check for two hundred pounds, 
bid him at once join his regiment, and not see 
him again until he had done something to re- 
deem his name. 

“ To be turned out of my father’s house for 
Harry Sutcliffe !” that was the way Tom looked 
at the matter. He lost all control of himself, 
and seeking out Colonel Sutcliffe, as he sat play- 
ing chess in the mess-room, he heaped one op- 
probrious name upon another, and finally chal- 
lenged him. 

“ Captain Derenzy, I buckled this sword on to 
fight my country’s quarrels, and not my own ; 
but I tell you what I will do. If you do not 


376 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


leave this room in two minutes, I will give you 
just such a horsewhipping as I would give an 
' impertinent servant.” 

Who struck first it would be impossible to 
say, but Tom Derenzy ’s slight, nervous frame, 
though quivering with rage, was but an infant’s 
in the powerful grasp of Harry Sutcliffe. 

And Harry never for one moment lost the 
perfect command of himself ; he held Tom with 
one hand, and with slow, keen, powerful regu- 
larity, administered such a flogging as was suffi- 
cient to humble even Tom’s proud Norman 
spirit. Then taking him up as he would a child, 
he laid him down upon a lounge, and made him 
drink a goblet of wine-and-water. 

The punishment had been so shamefully pro- 
voked, and had been given with such coolness 
and decision, as well as rapidity, that none of 
the officers present had interfered. Harry now 
walked to the door and locked it. 

“ Gentlemen,” he said, “ I am going to marry 
the sister of that man. I do not believe him a 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


3 77 


bad man upon the whole, and I have accepted 
his ample apology for all the insolence he has 
been guilty of. I will feel obliged if, for my 
sake, you pass your words of honor not to name 
what has passed during the last half hour.” 

The promise was readily given, and Tom 
knew that unless he chose to proclaim his own 
disgrace, he was safe from public scorn. But 
Harry’s forbearance, just at present, was only 
a fresh aggravation. He rose, and limping 
toward the door, waited to be released. 

“I am very sorry, Captain Derenzy. You 
forced this course upon me. Perhaps you will 
understand me better some day,” said Colonel 
Sutcliffe. 

“ I shall not try to understand you, sir. Let 
me pass !” 

Tom, however, had wit enough to leave Castle- 
town at once, and he only learned his sister’s 
marriage by its public announcement. 

None of his friends, however, wondered at 
his absence, for his hatred of Colonel Sutcliffe 


378 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


was a favourite topic of conversation with him, 
and he always spoke of his sister having made 
a degrading marriage with a man of no family 
and, consequently, of no honour. 

Perhaps nothing that Tom could have done 
would have so completely alienated his father 
from him. He had paid his debts over and over, 
winked at his irregularities, defended his violent 
temper; but to strike a woman — to strike his 
daughter, above all — was an unpardonable in- 
famy. Tom knew that nothing but the most 
abject humility would be accepted, and that, 
even then, his name would always be dishon- 
ourably associated in his father’s mind ; so he 
made no submission. 

The major read of him or heard of him from 
time to time, but never favourably. He had 
plunged deeper and deeper into dissipation of 
every kind, became a gambler of equivocal rep- 
utation, and finally married a French opera- 
singer. 

In the meantime the elder Sutcliffe died, and 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 379 

the colonel, succeeding to the estate, sold out of 
the army, and settled down in the grand old hall 
in Ripponden, with which they had linked their 
name. 

And the major absolutely moved with 
them to the very center of Yorkshire, for now 
there were two Pollys to rule him, and two little 
majors, who were called after him, and on no 
account could the old soldier bear to be parted 
from them. 

Only one cloud was in all Polly’s sky — her 
brother Tom. Before his marriage there had 
been a partial though private reconciliation, and 
Polly had sent him money several times. But 
that step seemed to completely cut him away 
from their sympathies. 

“ To marry a Frenchwoman , and an opera- 
singer /” said the major, indignantly. “ A British 
officer can scarcely fall lower.” 

It is probable that the major’s opinion was the 
general one in Tom’s circle, for he soon found 
himself in such a peculiar social position that 


380 Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


the only thing left for him was to sell out and 
retire from his profession. 

Then his descent was rapid, and very soon his 
name was a forbidden sound among those who 
had once loved him so dearly. 

Only the heart of Polly kept it in loyal affec- 
tion ; whenever Tom chose to come back to her, 
her love was watching and waiting. Through 
his wife’s movements she kept some dim idea 
of Tom’s whereabouts ; but it was a poor satis- 
faction to learn from a newspaper that Madame 
Derenzy was singing in Vienna, or Florence, or 
London, and to suppose, in consequence, that 
Tom was also there. 

Thus many years passed away. Sons and 
daughters filled the pleasant old rooms and 
gardens of Sutcliffe Hall, and Polly’s eldest boy 
was ready for Eton. 

Time and silence had seemingly obliterated 
all memories of the erring son and brother; 
yet, perhaps, only seemingly, for Polly had 
dared to call her youngest-born Tom Derenzy, 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 381 

and she noticed that the major hung round his 
cradle with a yearning, pathetic look that was in 
itself a prayer and a hope for his self-banished 
son. 

One morning he came down to his late break- 
fast, strangely silent and agitated, ate little, and 
wandered nervously about. 

“ What is the matter, papa ?” said Polly. “ Do 
you know that you are not one bit like yourself? 
Harry is afraid you are sick." 

“ Not at all, child. I have had a strange 
dream.” 

“ You dream, papa ! Why, you always laugh 
at dreams.” 

“ Yes, yes, Polly ; but I can’t laugh at this 
one. I wish I knew where your brother Tom 
was !” 

“ Was it about Tom ?” 

“ Yes. Have you seen anything of that 
madame’s proceedings lately ?” 

“ Not for more than a year ; then she was too 
ill to fulfill a London engagement. Perhaps if 


382 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


you wrote to the manager of the Italian Opera 
House, you could find Tom. Oh, papa, he was 
my only brother ! If I have been a good, lov- 
ing daughter to you, let me see Tom again !” 

Polly was sobbing, and the major’s brave lit- 
tle heart was in a perfect fright if a woman 
cried, more especially if that woman was Polly. 

“ Well, well, dear, w r e will seet about it. I am 
going to talk to Jeffcott about some change in 
my affairs. He is shrewd and prudent, and I 
will set him on Tom’s track — he will know what 
can be safely done.” 

That same night, as Polly was walking in Sut- 
cliffe Park with her three oldest children, they 
saw a boy, about twelve years old, peeping, with 
hungry, anxious face, through the iron gratings 
of one of the side-gates. He had a violin in his 
hand, and, when Polly gave him a shilling, he 
played an air with a grace and skill that was 
wonderful. 

The children listened with such delight that 
she called a servant to unlock the gate and admit 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


383 


the child. As he played she watched his face 
with a pitying scrutiny ; it told such a miserable 
tale of poverty, suffering and care as childhood’s 
face should never tell, and she resolved to give 
him at least one night’s rest and comfort. 

Sending her own children ' forward, she bid 
him walk by her side, accommodating her steps 
to his weary, limping pace. 

“ The night is falling, child,” she said, “ but 
you need go no farther. I shall see you have 
food and shelter till morning.” 

“ Pardon, madam, but I have with me a great 
message — I cannot delay.” 

“ Who has sent a child like you with such a 
message ?” 

“ My good mamma.” 

“ Where do you come from ?” 

“ Oh, from many places ; but, indeed, mamma 
is left at Inglebury. She said I must walk 
twenty miles. Yesterday morning I left her. 
Ah ! She will weep till I return.” 

“ Where are you going ?” 


384 Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


“ To Sutcliffe.” 

“ Who do you want to see there ?” 

“ The lady at the hall.” 

“ Why her ?” 

“ I cannot tell you, madam. Pardon me.” 

“ But I am the lady you seek.” 

“ Pardon. I cannot know that.” 

“ True. You are a good boy ; will you tell me 
who your mamma is?” 

“ Yes, indeed ! She is Madame Eugenie De- 
renzy. My mamma is very good, and she can 
sing ! Ah ! how she can sing when she is well ! 
It is like an angel.” 

Polly did not start, nor turn faint, nor show 
any signs of astonishment. In some subtle, pe- 
culiar manner she had already imbibed the 
conviction that her brother Tom’s child was 
beside her. She only stooped down, and taking 
the pale, pathetic face between her hands, 
kissed it tenderly, and said : 

“ My child, I am your Aunt Polly !” 

Then the boy began to cry with all a child’s 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


385 


passionate abandon , and throwing herself on the 
grass, gave up to the weariness, hunger and 
care that oppressed him. 

Polly suffered him to weep — nay, she sat down 
beside him, and gathering him in her arms, 
wept with him until his passion of grief had 
spent its force ; then she said : 

“What is your name?” 

“ Victor, madame.” 

“ And you are born for conquest, dear boy ; 
who can resist you ? Now try to walk with 
Aunt Polly home. We will go slowly, and you 
shall tell me all your trouble as we go.” 

“ All my trouble ! Alas, dear madame, that 
is not possible. Papa is sick, and mamma is 
long sick and cannot sing ; and there are Au- 
gustus, and Rollo, and Polly, and Cecile, and 
they starve ! Madame, they starve ! Yet did I 
play all the day in the streets, and sing, though 
my heart was full of tears ; yet not enough for 
bread could I get. And my mamma ! oh, the 
good God knows how she suffers !” and here 


386 Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


the boy, faint and weary with hunger and grief, 
burst again into hysterical sobbing. 

“ My poor Victor ! but you need not weep 
now. In a few hours I shall be with papa and 
mamma with plenty of money/’ 

“ Oh, you good aunt ! Papa said he was sure 
you would come if I could only see you 
first.” 

It was none of Polly’s habit to go round about 
the bush in any matter ; and so now, taking 
the child just as he was, she set him before her 
husband. 

“ Harry,” she said, impetuously, “ here is 
poor Tom’s eldest son ; and, oh, Harry, they 
are all sick and starving, twenty miles away ! 
I am going at once ; order the carriage for me 
and see all right.” 

“ But, Polly, the road is lonely and danger- 
ous, and it is dark. Let me go.” 

“ That child was on it all last night. I must 
go first, Harry ; in half an hour I shall be 
ready.” 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


387 


Then she took the boy, travel-stained, hungry 
and weeping, and sent him before the major. 

“ Eh, Polly, Polly, what is this ? Good God, 
my dream !” and the old man looked at the 
child with eager, pitying face. 

“ Tom’s eldest son, papa !” Then throwing 
herself into his arms, she told Tom’s story of 
misery and sickness and want, as only Polly, 
weeping, could tell Polly’s father anything. He 
was more excited than Polly ; more anxious to 
be off. He could scarcely wait until the car- 
riage was ready ; he gave order on the top of 
the other. Victor was to have the little blue 
room beside his own ; he was to have a glass of 
wine directly. Supper must be cooked for him 
at once ; his own servant must bathe and dress 
the boy ; his cousins must not see him in his 
indigent condition, etc., etc. 

He thought, too, for the sick and hungry to 
whom he was going ; ordered a hamper of 
cooked meats, etc., some fruit and wine into 
the carriage, and then went to his room and re- 


388 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


plenished his purse with gold pieces. In less 
than four hours they stopped before the miser- 
able house where Tom and his wife had been 
compelled by exhaustion and sickness to stop. 
At midnight, when no one looked for help, it 
came. And in that supreme moment of reunion 
the major forgot the pride of birth and the pride 
of nationality, and included the alien and the 
actress in his forgiveness and his love. 

Nor when he came to examine more coolly 
the generosity of his amnesty, was he inclined 
to recall it. Eugenie Derenzy was, in the first 
place, a beauty of the highest order, and the 
major, old as he was, acknowledged with a sin- 
cere loyalty the “divine right” of sovereign 
beauty. Then gradually he learned from his 
son’s lips how much that son owed to her labours, 
her love and her fidelity. 

She had supported Tom and her family ; she 
had borne patiently, and even hopefully, his ex- 
travagance and dissipation, trusted in him when 
all the world had forsaken him, nursed him ten- 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


389 


derly through much sickness, brought up her 
family in a manner beyond reproach — through 
all the long years of Tom’s reprobate course act- 
ing with such love, long-suffering and industry 
that the major declared if Eugenie was hot 
noble by birth, she had been made noble by the 
grace of God, and quoted, in a sort of penitent 
apology : 

“ What noble is may hold in scorn 
The man who. is but nobly born.” 

Tom came gladly enough to Sutcliffe Hall to be 
nursed well and have his future arranged for ; 
indeed, Harry Sutcliffe met him with such 
frank and honest good-will, that it was impossi- 
ble to affect anything but the gratitude he really 
felt. 

I dare not say that Tom’s years of adversity 
and knocking about the world had made a good 
and wise man of him, but he must have been a 
mere clod of earth to have lived fourteen years 
with such a noble woman as Eugenie, and not 
imbibed something of her sweet, honourable, 


390 


Polly Derenzy s Brother. 


generous nature. That he was capable of loving 
her with such a faithful affection showed that 
he was also capable of rising to her level under 
favourable circumstances. 

These were now at hand. It was decided 
that for a term of at least five years Tom and 
his family should return to some German town, 
and there devote themselves to the care and 
education of their children, the major settling 
upon madame an annual sum sufficient for an 
elegant and refined life in those principalities of 
modest expenditures. 

And madame acted very wisely. She knew 
that no man can be at once idle and good ; so 
she rented a small estate, and Tom absolutely 
discovered that Nature had intended him for a 
farmer, and not a soldier. 

His flocks and herds and crops and vineyards 
became of absorbing interest to him ; he read 
and experimented, and became an enthusiast on 
agricultural subjects, so that his father heard of 
his successes and marveled — 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


39i 


“ Where had Tom got such a taste ?” 

Polly referred to certain lords and dukes who 
had the same taste, and the major was not un- 
willing for Tom to farm in such good company. 

Finally, at the end of six years, he went to 
Germany to see his son, and was satisfied, de- 
lighted and enthusiastic. Tom was absolutely 
making money. Eugenie’s empire was certain ; 
Tom was saved dom estically ; his children were 
handsome and intelligent and full of promise. 

It did not, indeed, please him that they all 
“ fiddled and sung,” but then Rollo half- 
redeemed this fault in his militaty enthusiasm. 
Rollo was a born soldier, and had gone to the 
Prussian military school. 

When the major came home he altered his 
will and invested the bulk of his property in a 
large estate and settled it, with its fine dairy 
farms and rich lands, upon his son Tom. 

The proud, pitiful gentleman soldier has be- 
come a splendid gentleman farmer, industrious, 
progressive and intelligently speculative. In 


39 2 


Polly Derenzy s Brother . 


finding his new vocation, he has discovered his 
life, and amply rewarded the loving patience of 
his sister and the generous trust of his father. 

Surely there is no redeemer like a great and 
a true love. 


THE END. 



An Original Story of Adventure. 


IN THE CHINA SEA. 


BY 

SEWARD W. HOPKINS, 

Author of “ Two Gentlemen of Hawaii f etc etc, 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY PRUETT SHARK ANZ) H. J f. EATON. 

12mo. 300 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


“ In the China Sea” is a story of the Pacific Coast, where the 
almond-eyed Mongolians have a quarter in every city, whence 
they communicate with their kindred of the Flowery Kingdom 
across the seas. The story deals with the disappearance of a 
beautiful girl, who is traced to Portland, Oregon, where she is 
embarked on a steamer bound for China. There is an exciting 
pursuit and search for this beautiful girl. The extraodinary 
things which happen, the sights and people met with and de- 
scribed, in detailing this pursuit and search, render this story one 
of the most interesting and exciting productions of modern fiction. 
It will rank with “King Solomon’s Mines” and Jules Verne’s 
wonderful narrations. An unknown people of strange customs, 
manners and appearance is introduced. A great war is started, 
carried on and brought to a conclusion. The invention of the 
author seems to be boundless, and the interest of the reader is 
stimulated by the new and wonderful developments that crowd 
upon one another as the story proceeds. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


An Excellent New Novel. 


INVISIBLE HANDS. 


AFTER THE GERMAN OF 

F. VON ZOBELTITZ, 

BY 

S. E. BOGGS, 

Translator of “ The Little Countess,” etc . 

WITH ILUSTBATIONS BY JAMES FAQ AN. 

12mo. 372 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Frice, $1.25. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


This is a most excellent novel. The incidents are natural and 
probable, although uncommon ; and the admirable plot is based 
on transactions in Berlin and in Italy, both German and Italian 
characters figuring in it. It is rare that anything so powerful and 
dramatic comes to us in the form of German fiction. The story 
is intensely interesting, constantly gaining as new characters and 
fresh incidents are introduced in the working-out of the plot. 
The character of the Italian lawyer is worthy of the times of 
of Machiavelli. It presents a lovely picture of German family 
life, and the female characters represent all that is charming in 
girlhood and womanhood. This is a novel which everybody can 
read with pleasure and profit. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


Yet She Loved Him, 

By Mr s. Kate Vaughn, 


— AND 

Jephthah’s Daughter, 

By Julia Magruder, 

Author of “ A Magnificent Plebeian fi “At Anchor 
“Honored in the Breach ,” etc. 


With Illustrations by Warren B. Davis. 


12mo. 339 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


“Yet She Loved Him” is a popular and sensational story 
of English life. It has many elements of interest, and will 
please all readers to whom a good story is the principal thing 
in a novel. Miss Magruder’s novelette, “Jephthah’s Daughter,” 
which is appended, is of a distinctly higher character. It is 
based upon the Biblical narrative, and is written in a style 
peculiarly appropriate to the subject, and full of beauty. The 
story is a brilliant piece of work. Nothing which Miss Magruder 
has written exhibits greater literary ability or more sustained 
power. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A Novel by Fanny Lewald. 


The Mask of Beauty. 

AFTER THE GERMAN OF 

Fanny Lewald, 

BY 

Mary M. Pleasants. 

With Illustrations by F. A. Carter. 

12mo. 340 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


Fanny Lewald is one of the most celebrated writers of Ger- 
many. Her books have enjoyed great popularity, but few of them 
have been translated into English. This is a story of Hela, a 
peninsula jutting out into the Baltic Sea, of which Dantzig is the 
principal town. The maid of Hela is a poor orphan, whose rare 
beauty is the cause of her many trials. She is bred in a fishing 
village among a superstitious people, full of curiosity, and isolated 
from her neighbors by reason of her parentage and religion. The 
story is a minute and realistic study of character, manners and 
customs of an out-of-the-way corner of the world. The extra- 
ordinary beauty of the girl Catherine, whose life history is nar- 
rated, is made the cause of every important situation and the 
final tragedy of the novel. Nothing can be finer than the patient 
and loving art with which the author has developed her subject, 
and exhibited beauty as the mask of a pure and beautiful soul 
unconscious of the dangerous possession. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A New Novel by the Author of “ In the China Sea.” 


Two Gentlemen 

of Hawaii 

BY 

Seward W. Hopkins, 

Author of “In the China Sea” etc . 

With Illustrations by M. Colin. 

12mo. 244 Fag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


This novel deals with the revolution in the Hawaiian Islands. 
It takes the part of the revolutionists. It gives a complete 
account of the exciting events, beginning with the deposition of 
Queen Liliuokalani, the institution of the provisional government 
under President Dole and the offer of the islands to the United 
States. It is a thrilling picture of a period of intrigue, danger 
and revolutionary violence. Most of the characters are Ameri- 
cans concerned in the revolution, and the story is written from 
the point of view of a partisan who believes that the peace and 
prosperity of the islands are bound up with the new movement. 
It is a lively and interesting tale, full of sensation, with a vivid 
picture of the scenery and life of the islands and of the fatal 
malady with which the natives are afflicted. *The terrors of lep- 
rosy are described. The superstitions of the Islanders and the 
volcanic eruptions on the Island of Lanai form a tragic back- 
ground to the story. At the present time, when public attention 
is engaged by the events transpiring in these islands, this novel 
has an especial attractiveness. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

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A Story of the French Revolution. 


The Shadow of 

the Guillotine. 


BY 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., 

Author of “ The Gunmaker of Moscow ” “ The 
Outcast of Milan'' “ Blanche of 
Burgundy ” etc ., etc . 

With Illustrations Tby Warren B. Davis. 

12mo. 429 Pages. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $100. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


This is an interesting and thrilling novel. Like all of Mr. 
Cobb’s works, it is interesting as a story from the beginning, 
dealing with historical scenes and events of one of the most ex- 
citing epochs of modern times. The French Revolution was the 
first great outbreak of the people against hereditary power and 
privilege. The ideas of liberty and equality and government by 
the people, which were its active principle, were obscured and 
caricatured in the sanguinary tumult and riot into which the 
movement degenerated under the leadership of Robespierre and 
his companions. Through this tempest of fire and blood Mr. 
Cobb takes his readers, and fastens their attention while portray- 
ing the charming and manly characters whose story he tells. The 
thousands who have read “ The Gunmaker of Moscow ” will en- 
joy this novel. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

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Story of a French Millionaire. 


Mystery of Hotel Brichet. 


AFTER THE FRENCH OF 

Eugene Chavette. 


With Illustrations by James Fagan. 


12mo. 358 Padres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


This is a French novel the scene of which is Paris of the last 
century. The great robber Cartouche on his trial betrays his 
associates, and it is through one implicated by his testimony that 
the author introduces the history of the House of Brichet. Truth 
is said to be stranger than fiction, but the story of the galley- 
slave who escapes from Toulon to figure as the possessor of mil- 
lions in the capital of France will compare favorably with anything 
that ever happened in the world of reality. It is seldom that a 
novel filled with exciting incidents is so entirely consistent from 
beginning to end and which gains in interest as the plot develops. 
The novel has something of the spirit and “go” of Alexander 
Dumas’s famous guardsman series, the most amusing character 
being a guardsman, a swordsman and a duelist. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


An Historical Novel, 


Blanche of Burgundy. 


BY 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., 

Author of “ The Gunmaker of Moscow f etc . 


With Illustrations by H. M. Eaton. 


12mo. 419 Pagres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


“ Blanche of Burgundy ” is a novel based upon incidents and 
scenes of a most interesting period of French history. It is the 
time of Charles the Ninth. The realm is divided into twelve great 
baronies or fiefs, the heads of which are princes almost independ- 
ent, owing military service and tribute to their sovereign. Charles 
has departed from France on the great mission of the Crusaders 
to rescue Palestine from the Moslem. The Duke of Burgundy, 
father of Blanche, is about to embark with his army for Egypt to 
join the king, but, before doing so, he awaits the marriage of his 
daughter, the beautiful Blanche, to Gregory of Franche Comte. 
The latter proves a difficult subject, and the complications which 
ensue make a highly interesting liovel. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 



The Flower of 

Gala W ater 


By Mrs. Amelia E. Barr. 

TI T TKTRATED BY C. KENDRICK. 


An American Society Novel. 


GIRLS OF A FEATHER. 

BY 

MRS. AMELIA E. BARR, 

Author of “The Beads of Tasmer," “ The Mate of the 1 Easter 
Bell;" “ Friend Olivia ,” “The Household of 
McNeil ,” “A Sister to Esau," etc. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY MEREDITH NUGENT. 

12mo. 366 pag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.26. 
Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


Nothing could be more timely, nothing could be more charm- 
ing, than this exquisite book. A society novel by Mrs. Barr will 
excite widespread interest and curiosity. “ Girls of a Feather " 
has the freshness of a May morning in its atmosphere and the 
form and color of June in its beautiful pictures of womanhood. It 
is a delightful successor to “ The Bow of Orange Ribbon,” and 
readers will find in it a lightness of touch and maturity of power 
which show the progress made by the author in the highest quali- 
ties of literary form. Her new work is distinctly an advance upon 
anything which she has ever done before, and will rank with the 
best literature of the period. Large, new type is used, and the 
appearance of the book is very attractive. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

RG. SRT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE CHOICE SERIES==Continued 


No. and Title. 


Author 


Cloth. Paper 


-The Haunted Husband 

-The Siberian Exiles.. 

-The Spanish Treasure 

-The Kin« oT Honey Island ... 
-Mate of the “Easter Bell”.. 

-The Child of the Parish 

-Miss Mischief 

-The Honor of a Heart 

-Transgressing the Law 

-Hearts and Coronets 

-Tressilian Court 

-Guy Tressiliau’s Fate 

-Mynheer Joe 

-The Froler Case 

-A Priestess of Comedy 

-All or Nothing 

-A Skeleton in the Closet 

-Brandon Coyle’s Wife 

-Love 

-The Tell-Tale Watch 

-Hefty; or the Old Grudge — 

-Girls of a Feather 

-Apnassionatn 

-Only a Girl’s Heart 

-The Rejected Bride 

-Gertrude Haddon 

-Countess Dynar, or Polish Blood. 

-A Sleep- Walker 

-A Lover From Across the Sea and 

-A Princess of the Stage 

-Countess Obemau 

-The Gun- Bearer 

-Wooing a Widow 

-Her Little Highness 

-In the China Sea 

-Invisible Hands. 

-Yet She Loved Him 

-The Mask of Beauty 

-Two Gentlemen of Hawaii. . 

-The Shadow of the Guillotine 

-Mystery of Hotel Brichet 

-Blanche of Burgundy 

-The Opposite House 

-The Flower of Gala Water. . 


Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Col. Thomas W. Knox 

Elizabeth C. Winter.. 

Maurice Thompson 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

Marie von Ebuer-Eschenbach 

W. Heimburg 

From the German 

Capt. Frederick Whittaker 

Jane G. Fuller 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

*t 44 

tot. George Batliborne 

From the French by H. O. Cooke. 

Nataly von Eschstrutli 

Count Nepomuk Czapski 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

44 «« 44 

Honore De Balzac 

From the German 

J. H. Connelly 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

Elsa D’Esteri’e-Keeline: 

Mrs. E. L>. E. N. Southworth 

44 4f 44 

<< 44 44 

Nataly von Eschstrutli 

Paul H. Gerrard 

Other Stories. E. Werner 

Nataly von Esclistruth 

Julien Gordon 

E. A. Robinson and G. A. Wall... 

Ewald August Koenig 

Nataly von Esclistruth 

Seward W. Hopkins 

F. von Zobeltitz 

Mrs. Kate Vaughn 

Fanny Lewald 

Seward W. Hopkins 

SylvanusCobb, Jr 

Eugene Chavette 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 

Nataly von Eschstrutli 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 


$1.00 

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Every Number Beautifully Illustrated. 


ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Publishers, 


^or. William and Spruce Sts., New York City. 


THE CHOICE SERIES. 


No. and Title. 


Author. 


Cloth. 


1— A }Fnd Betrothal 

2— Henry M. Stanley 

3— Her Double Life 

4— Unknown 

5— The Guuniaker of Moscow... 

6— Maud Morton 

7— The Hidden Hand 

8— Sundered Hearts 

9— The Stone-Cutter of Lisbon 

10— Lady Kildare 

11— Oris Bock 

12— Nearest and Dearest 

13— The Bailiff’s Scheme 

14— A Leap in the Dark 

15— The Old Life’s Shadow's 

16— The Lost Lady of Lone 

17— lone 

18— For Woman’s Love 

19— Cesar Birotteau 

20— The Baroness Blank 

21— Parteil by Fate 

22— The Forsaken Inn 

23— Otti ie Aster’s Silence 

24 — Edda’s Birthright 

25— The Alchemist 

26 — Under Oath 

27 — Cousin Pons 

28— The Unloved Wife 

29— Lilith 

30— Reunited 

31— Mrs. Harold Stag# 

32— The Breach of Custom 

33— The Northern Light 

34— Beryl’s Husband- 

35 — A Love Match 

36— A Matter of Millions 

37— Eugenie Grandet 

38— The Improvise tore 

39— Uaoli, the Warrior Bishop. 

40— Under a Cloud 

41— Wife and Woman 

42— An Insignificant Woman 

43— The Carlefons 

44 — Mademoiselle Desroclies 

45— The Beads of Tasmer 

46— John Win thro p’s Defeat 

47— Little Heather-Blossom 

48— Gloria 

49— David Lindsay 

50— The Little Countess 

51— The Cliaiitauqnans 

52— The Two Husbands 

53— Mrs. Barr's Short Stories — 

54 — We Parted at the Altar 

55— Was She Wife or Widow . . . 

56— The Country Doctor 

57— Florabel's Lover 

58— Lida Campbell 

59— Edith Trevor’s Secret 

60— Cecil llosse 

61 — Love is Lord of All 

62— True Daughter of Hurt custom 

63— Zina’s Awaking 

6 1— Morris Julian's Wife 

65— Dear Elsie 

66— The Hungarian Girl 

67— Beatrix Bohan 

68— A Son of Old Harry 

69— Romance of Trouville 

70— Life of General Jackson 

71— The Return of the O’Maliony. 

72— Reuben Foreman, the Village 

73— Neva’s Three Lovers 

74— “Em” 

75— “Em’s” Husband 


Laura Jean Libbey 

Henry Frederick Reddall 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. E. D. K. N. 8outli worth 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 

Major A. R. Calhoun 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. South worth 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Prof. Wm. Henry Peck 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Captain Mayne Reid 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southwortli 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

Laura Jean Libbey 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

Honore De Balzac 

August Niemann 

Laura Jean Libbey 

Anna Katharine Green 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Honore De Balzac 

Jean Kate Ludlum 

Honore De Balzac 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

<< ii a 

A Popular Southern Author ... 

Robert Grant 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey. (Translator).. 

E. Werner 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 

Anna Katharine Green 

Honore De Balzac 

Hans Christian Andersen 

W. C. Kitchin 

Jean Kate Ludlum 

Mary J. Safford 

W. Heimburg 

Robert Grant 

Andre Theuriet 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

Jean Kate Ludlum 

MaryJ. Safford. (Translator) 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

a u 

S. E. Boggs. (Translator) 

John Habberton 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

Laura Jean Libbey 

Malcolm Bell 

Honore De Balzac 

1 ,aura J ean Libbey 

Jean Kate Ludlum 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

44 44 

From the German 

<« a 

Mrs. J. Kent Spender 

Elizabeth Olmis 

From the German 

44 44 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Albion W, Tourgee 

Brehat 

Oliver Dyer 

Harold Frederic 

Blacksmith. Darley Dale 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 


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